


No Hero's Were Harmed In the Creation of This Story

by Eternal_Flame_Babe



Category: Kick-Ass (2010)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Drama, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Swearing, permanent hiatus, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Flame_Babe/pseuds/Eternal_Flame_Babe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A canon divergent fic where one geeky superhero has a run in with a mafia boss' son while on a seemingly uneventful trip to the comic book store. The two boys start out as enemies, but it isn't long before they become friends. However, Chris still has some trust issues, and he's dealing with abuse at home. Dave wants to help, but he only ends up making everything a thousand times worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris' eyes widened; like himself, Dave had certainly changed over the years…a lot. Not that it mattered. He was still the pathetic attractive loser that he had always - wait, attractive? Chris shook his head of this confusing or, more so, fucked up thought and approached his sworn enemy.

Dave re-adjusted his glasses. He wondered why he even wore them anymore, after all he owned contacts. It wasn't as if the ladies flocked towards him when he sported his geeky specs; wearing them actually seemed to repel chicks. Still, he kept wearing the dumb things. It was sort of like an extension to keeping his identity as a superhero a secret, or not really if you thought about it. Dave shook his head, dismissing the distracting thoughts filtering around in his mind. He had work to do, more specifically, comics to read.

He eventually made it to his destination, Atomic Comics. He would have arrived there earlier if his bike hadn't been jacked the night before. Dave was still pretty pissed about it, but he didn't let it dampen his mood. He pushed the door open to the shop and immediately surfed through the many assortments of comics lining the store, stopping only when he came to his favorite genre.

Chris D'Amico took another long drag of the weed as he sped down the streets of Staten Island towards his favorite place in the world: Atomic Comics. Not exactly your stereotypical bottle-cap glasses wearing, skinny, socially awkward, virgin-type comic book nerd (well maybe except for one of those things, which he would never admit to of course), but there was truly no other place in the world he'd rather be. Comic books and his drugs were really the only things in life he actually found comfort in. And only a small percentage of the things that dear old dad didn't approve of. Not that he really approved of the kid in the first place. A lot seemed to change after his mother took off. But not shit that he wanted to think of right now as he pulled into a free parking spot along the street; a hint of a smile crossing his face as he glanced up at the sign of the storefront. This was more of a home to him than anywhere else.

Most of his days were spent at the comic book store. He could be himself here; getting lost in his favorite superhero stories. No worries, no bullshit, just - fuck. His smile quickly faded; instead replaced by his usual smug smirk as he spotted his high school rival through the large glass door. It had been, what, four, maybe five years since he had seen the guy, but the hatred for him certainly remained. Well this was his fuckin' territory. 

"Lizewski." He nodded to the older boy as he headed for - god damn-it! - the same section Dave was in: super heroes.

Dave's hand stopped short, letting the comic he had been lifting slip back into the rack. Dave knew that voice. "Chris?" The name left his lips before he even lifted his head to check and see who it was. And now the shorter boy was making his way towards him. "What are you doing here?" He asked stupidly in his surprise, forgetting momentarily that Chris was just as much of a comic-fanatic as him, possibly even more so. "I mean hey, I haven't seen you in a while." Dave said not unkindly. Four or so years passed already and he didn't even think to consider it an option that Chris would still be mad with him. It had been a long time after all, no one holds grudges that long... right?

Chris' eyes widened; like himself, Dave had certainly changed over the years…a lot. Not that it mattered. He was still the pathetic attractive loser that he had always - wait, attractive? Chris shook his head of this confusing or, more so, fucked up thought and approached his sworn enemy.

He never actually had a reason for hating the guy. I mean, he barely knew him really. Only meeting him for the first time in the eleventh grade when his parents finally allowed him to go to a real school instead of continuing to home school him. There was just something about Dave fucking Lizewski that made his blood boil…

"The fuck it look like I'm doing here?" responding only with his usual tone as he not-so-accidentally shoved by his peer. "Playing fucking chess, obviously." Dumb-ass.

The growing smile on Dave's face fell as Chris spoke. He swayed at the boys rather forceful nudge, quickly retaining his balance before he moved over to give Chris the space he obviously wanted. "You haven't changed much." Dave commented. "I was just trying to make conversation..." He said in a much quieter voice.

Dave picked up the comic he had dropped and re-examined it. It was interesting looking, the characters displayed on the cover looked bad-ass and from what he could tell, it seemed to have a pretty amazing plot as well. He tucked the comic under his arm and made the short trip to the booth beside the window where he regularly sat. Usually Marty and Todd would hang out with him, but the guys were slowly drifting apart and seeing each other less and less.

Reaching for a Batman comic, Chris casually flipped through the pages while smirking. "Changed a lot more than you think, asshole," glancing up from his comic, "can see you're still a loser though." Normally Dave had his little buddies following him around everywhere he went. Looks like they finally realized it as well.

Dave ignored the other boy's snide remark easily. Those long years he spent in high school had made him nearly impervious to petty insults. And then there was the fact that this was Chris, and he always saw him assort of a kid, despite them being around the same age. Except now he couldn't really look at him that way because he had facial hair, and it made him look more... well, less like a child. But even though he matured aesthetically, Dave couldn't tell the difference between the Chris he knew in high school, to the man that he was now.

Chris glanced back to his comic and suddenly realizing he didn't even like Batman, he dropped the book back in with the other comics and searched through for something a little more his style; something where the villain always wins. Yeah, right. Not exactly easy to find. But his mind was somewhere else at the moment anyways.

It frustrated him to no end that Dave could get to him like this. The way he walked, talked, that ridiculous lopsided smile he constantly wore, the way his unkempt mess of hair would fall over those deep blue eyes hidden beneath those dorky glasses.  _'Would look so much better with contacts…'_ Whoa. Yeah, he hated him alright.

"You're distracting me. Fuck off." Chris said as he stormed over to Dave's booth and slid in across from him.

"What's your problem? I'm just sitting here."

"Dude, just you being here is fuckin' annoying me." Giving probably the most immature response possible as he glared bitterly across the table; his voice rising. "There are tons of comic book stores in this city. Can't you go somewhere else?" Before Dave could reply, Chris leaned over the table and quickly snatched the others' comic book from him. "What's this crap you're reading anyways?" quickly glancing through the pages, before carelessly tossing the book back across the table.

"What the hell's goin' on over here?" Apparently the owner had been watching the two the whole time, worried a fight might just break lose in his store. And tossing precious, rare comic books around was definitely grounds for removal. Not that it wasn't obvious to everyone around them; you could practically feel the hatred radiating off of the two boys. "You two take it outside." The owner hurried over to the booth to retrieve the comic book before more damage could be done to it as he shooed the boys away. "Go on!"

Dave glared at Chris before casting an apologetic look towards the owner. He didn't want to cause anymore trouble for the man who was just trying to protect his buisness. Dave stood up, preparing to leave, but it seemed Chris had other ideas.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you even know who I am?" Chris jumped from his seat as he got in the owners' face. With a crime lord for a father it was all too easy for Chris to get away with whatever he wanted and he constantly took advantage of that fact.

"Chris, come on. Let's just go." 

The comic store owner did his best to hold back a hint of fear as Chris barked at him. He knew exactly who the kid was and the power that his father held, but there was no way that he was going allow this punk to disrespect him in his own store. "I don't give a shit who you are, boy. I'm sure your father wouldn't be too pleased to hear about the way you're acting right now." This wasn't the first time Chris had caused trouble in his shop, but it will be the last. 

The last thing Chris needed was his dad hearing about this. "Well, fine. Fuck you. See how well your business does when my father hears about the way you're treating me." He knew his father would be more angry with him then the owner, but the threat of it never failed. 

Storming past Dave, he flung open the door to the shop and headed for his car. He searching his pockets for his car keys, barely noticing that Dave had followed him out the door, clearly looking to fight, or so he thought. 

"What the hell, man? You got me kicked out."

 "Oh,  _I_  got us kicked out?" balling his hands into fists and turning from his car to face his accuser. " _You_  just fucking got us kicked out! I go there all the damn time and have never had a problem till you decided to show up." He knew it was all his fault. He knew it, though he'd never admit to it. "And by the way, I was handling it perfectly fine till you fuckin' stepped in." In fact, he was rather thankful for Dave's interruption. Intimidation  _usually_  worked for him, but this guy didn't seem to be falling for it. Taking Dave's advice and leaving was probably for the better.

 Dave rolled his eye's as Chris managed to turn the whole thing around and make it his fault. He sighed, getting tired pretty quickly over Chris's theatrics. "If I knew you were going to act like this I wouldn't have tried to talk to you in the first place." 

The guy obviously didn't like him for whatever reason. But Dave had a feeling that he just treated everybody like that. Having nothing else to go on, he decided Chris was a bit of an asshole. "Why don't you like me anyway? I don't remember doing anything to you." 

Chris knew he was being completely ridiculous over this. They were no longer in high school. Their childish bickering needed to stop. And Dave did make a good point: what  _did_ he ever do to him? Confusion set in as he tried to figure this out. He was always an asshole to everyone, but it never crossed his mind to ask himself why. 

Why  _didn't_ he like him? Why didn't he like  _anybody_? It was impossible to get close to him and only now was he beginning to realize this. He had no friends, at least not true friends anyways. The few that that he did have were either rich, stuck-up, spoiled little brats who he could not stand (much like himself), or they were so afraid of him that they figured they'd be much better off to just stay on his good side. But to have somebody actually  _want_ to talk to him just because; that was rare. 

"I…I don't know…" he quickly responded before turning away; nervously fidgeting with his car keys.

But he did know. He was flat-out terrified of another person getting close to him; possibly wanting to be his friend. It practically had been beaten into him not to associate with those of, well, lesser worth and by his fathers' standards that meant basically everyone. 

Dave studied Chris' reactions closely. The guy seemed to have calmed down considerably since they had been asked to leave the shop. That was a good thing. He preferred him like this. Still, it didn't make him look anymore approachable. The man just appeared more reserved than before.

Dave couldn't help but feel the conversation was a lost cause, Chris looked like he didn't want to talk to him anymore, and he didn't even seem to know why he hated him. What kind of person hates someone else without knowing the reason why? What was his problem? Dave just didn't understand this guy.

 "I thought that maybe we could be friends for once. You know, it's what  _normal_ people do." He said truthfully, with emphasis on the normal as a small jab back at the boy for getting him kicked out.

 Chris shoved his hands in the pockets of his designer jeans and stared hard at the ground; he was still very much on edge over the quarrel in the comic book shop and angry at Dave for, again, who knows why. This guy just wanted to be his friend. And not out of fear or to use him for his money or anything else like that, but by  _choice_. Dave was a decent person, anyone could see that, but trusting another person was not something he was used to. He wasn't about to let his guard down.

 "Friends? With  _you_?" Chris scoffed at this, attempting to keep up his tough-guy facade. Sure, he'd love nothing more than to be able to just hang out with this guy; from what he could tell, they had a lot in common, more so than his snobby, rich 'friends' that were chosen for him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just give Dave a chance. He considered the idea as he leaned against the driver's side door of his old, beat-up, barely-drivable black Mercedes; the last thing his mother had given him for his sixteenth birthday before she took off with the butler and, even after five years now, Chris just couldn't bear to get rid of it.

 Dave stared at the others turned back. He thought the guy would've leaped into his car by now. It had to amount to something that he was still standing there talking to him. If there was even a remote chance he was interested in being friends, Dave wanted to take advantage of that. He no ulterior motives, all he wanted was to be able to be on friendly terms with the other. Ever since he had first met him in high school he noticed how the boys father had never really attended any of the school functions, and how Chris was escorted around by his chauffeur, but never seen with his parents. Dave thought living like that must be pretty lonely, and he felt bad for him.

 "Yeah, would that be so terrible?" Dave said.

 "I don't know. I mean, no. No, it wouldn't be terrible. Whatever you want." Chris brushed the other's question off; he didn't quite know how to reply to this considering most people went out of their way just to avoid him. "Look, man, I really should get going. I'm in enough shit as it is just being out here without security…" He rolled his eyes at the statement as he pressed the unlock button on his key fob. He could barely go anywhere without an escort and on the occasional days when he was able to sneak out by himself (such as today) he made it worth it. But it was getting late and no doubt it's been noticed that he wasn't home. In fact, he was quite surprised his father's goons weren't waiting for him outside the comic book store already.

  _'Well... it's progress?'_ A hopeful smiled crossed Dave's features."Ok. See you around." He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets and checked out the others 'sweet ride', except that it wasn't so sweet as it was trashy looking. Wasn't Chris rich? Then why didn't he have a fancy, flashy one to show off in? That sort of thing sounded more his style. Still, It was more than Dave owned. Hell, he didn't even have a bike to his name anymore.

 Chris studied Dave's reaction as he eyed his Mercedes. It was the same as everyone else's: questioning why he wasn't sporting the latest model as opposed to this junky piece of crap.

 "My mom gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday and I just haven't replaced it yet," he shrugged. That was really all anyone needed to know.

 Dave gawked at Chris as he seemed to read his mind, answering his question without him even asking. Unsure of how to reply, he instead opted for letting the other know he was serious about wanting to get to know him. 

"Hey, I work at that big theater nearby, just so you know. Maybe we could talk sometime."

 "Yeah, maybe I'll stop by. Been meaning to see the newest Avengers movie anyways," Chris couldn't help but grin back when he saw Dave smiling at him. He ran his fingers through his hair (an unconscious action of his when he was nervous) as he realized he was staring a little longer than he planned before quickly looking away.

"I've seen that one, it's really good." Dave commented. 

"Are you, uh, workin' soon? Like, tonight?" Chris asked, though more to the ground rather than directly at Dave.

"Yeah, actually. I sometimes hang out in the comic store before work. It's like my routine." 

"I could, ya know, give you a lift before I head home," slightly baffled by this sudden confidence, "come on, man." Chris smiled, hopping into his car and motioning towards the passenger's side. He was in trouble anyways; it wasn't going to make much of a difference how late he came home now. 

"Really? That'd be awesome." The lanky man smiled brightly as he strode around the front of the parked park. He pulled open the passengers door, and dropped into the seat, closing the door behind him. "Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'A drink sounds good right about now. ;) my shift is over in another hour.' Was he really going to meet up with Chris again? It was almost like he landed himself in a parallel universe where they didn't hate each other.

It hadn't been that long since they were pretty much at each other's throats and now…

' _I'm offering him a ride?'_

He wasn't given much time to change his mind even if he wanted to as Dave was already seated in the passenger's seat practically grinning from ear to ear.

"Sure. No problem. And I don't wanna hear any spoilers about the movie," the younger replied, starting up the car and pulling the shift gear into reverse, "you gotta stop at home and grab a uniform or anything?" he asked, keeping his foot on the brake pedal as he awaited Dave's response.

"Nope. I'm already wearing it." Dave pulled down the zipper on his jacket to reveal a peak of the dark blue polo shirt and name tag underneath. A dorky smile played on his face while he yanked the pull of his zipper back up.

Chris felt his heart race ever so slightly. "Uh, alright. Yeah." He was stumbling over almost every word which was very unlike him and he seemed to be gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual as they sped down the streets towards the theater.

He could barely keep his eyes on the road, continuously glancing over at the rather attractive older boy beside him. He never recalled Dave Lizewski being this good-looking. Come to think of it, he never recalled any guy being good-looking.  _'Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with me?'_  silently berating himself,  _'just haven't seen him in a while, that's all. We've both changed. No big deal.'_ He tried to convince himself, but failing miserably in the process.

They were mostly silent during the drive to Dave's work; it seemed neither one knew what to really say to the other. It wasn't entirely uncomfortable though, in fact Chris rather enjoyed the company.

He pulled around back to the theater parking lot and placed the car in park, tapping his fingers anxiously on the wheel as he thought of something to say. "So uh, we're here," Chris spoke up. 'Well duh, idiot.' He offered a foolish grin, catching the other man beaming just as much as himself.

 _'I probably look like a moron.'_ Dave mentally noted that he was smiling too much. He wanted to say more to the boy, but he was at a loss for words.

' _God, he looks so good when he smiles...'_  Again with the uncomfortable silence as Chris wished he could think of something, anything, to say before Dave left.

"Wait!" he called, as he reached for Dave's wrist to stop him from climbing out of the car, "Umm, how bout I give you my number and you can call me when you wanna hang out." Chris tore a section from a scrap piece of paper lying around and grabbed a pen from the cup holder to write his name and number down for Dave; his hands shaking in the process as he handed it to his new friend.

Chris watched as Dave entered the building before taking off for his home as quick as he could.

\- o - o - o -

The next few monotonous hours were spent sitting around inside of a booth, exchanging movie tickets for cash. It was all so incredibly dull that Dave found himself wondering about his new friend, and if he had a job.  _'Probably not.'_ He thought. It was common knowledge that the D'amico's were loaded, and it made little sense for Chris to have a job with all that money at his disposal. _'Anybody that rich would probably be working some high profile job, and getting paid $100 bucks an hour.'_

When his shift was over, Dave shrugged his hoodie on, eager to escape his tiny, compact prison. However, before he could reach the exit to the building, the girl working the booth next to his, Jessica, (she had about as much personality as a pile of bricks, but made up for it with her incredible hotness) approached him. Dave didn't get too excited though. He'd been in similar situations such as this where women would approach him, and ask if he was gay or if he wanted to be their gay best friend. As it turned out, Jessica wasn't any different.

She had gushed to him how cute he and his 'boyfriend' looked and he could barely get a word in edgewise, much less correct her error with her incessant chit-chat. "You should go for guys with better cars though." She advised. "I have this friend, George. He drives a Porsche, and he's really into tall guys like you-"

"I'm not gay." His words had an desirable effect and Jessica's mouth fell shut quickly while a betrayed look crossed her features.  _'I never said I was gay. Why the shit is she giving me that look? Is that fucking rumor still going around?'_ He thought, walking past her on his way home.

He was sure to stay alert for the thief who stole his only form of transportation, just in case they decided to go peddling around this area. Unfortunately for him, the petty thug had better sense than to do something as stupid as that and Dave was soon climbing the steps to his house, and letting himself inside. Tired and bike-less.

He was greeted by his exhausted looking dad. Sometimes he felt like he took his father for granted. He knew how hard the guy worked to earn funding for his college. It was the part of the reason why he put his superhero business on the back burner and concentrated more on his studying, and work.

Dave and his father spent a few minutes talking about the usual sort of stuff, how work was going, and if he was doing good in school. He didn't mention anything about his missing bike. It was one less thing his father had to worry about. The conversation ended with his dad being too tired to continue speaking, and excusing himself to his bedroom. Dave bounded up the steps for his own room, removing his jacket as he went and draping it over the banister. Next he took off his glasses and placed them on his nightstand. The lanky man then began peeling off the rest of his clothing, letting them pool at his feet before pausing at the button of his pants.

Dave searched his pockets for the folded piece of paper Chris had given him hours before, and picked up his nearby cellphone to add the boy to his contacts. Now that he had Chris's number stored on his phone, he didn't really need to keep the paper anymore. Still, he felt like it held some sort of significance and he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Dave smiled to himself as he smoothed the paper out, and set it beside his glasses. It was the last thing he did before switching off his lamp and falling asleep.

\- o - o - o -

Pulling into his reserved spot in the underground parking lot to the condominium, Chris frantically racked his brain for an acceptable excuse, but knowing all too well what was in store for him. Fuck it; it was completely worth it. He couldn't help but smile at that thought as he pressed the top floor button on the elevator.

"Christopher!" flinching at the bellowing call of his name coming from his father's office _, 'Shit.'_ He had tried his best to sort of sneak in and make it to his bedroom before his father noticed.

"Get in here, boy."

Chris shakily turned the doorknob to the office and tried to compose himself as best he could before entering, however barely making it a few steps into the room before his father's much larger frame was looming over him. He wasn't given a chance for an explanation before he was backhanded hard across the face and hitting his head on the wall directly behind him; wiping the right side of his lip with the back of his hand as the taste of blood appeared in his mouth.

It hurt, but it certainly didn't come as a surprise. Frank D'Amico never approved of his son; Chris had never been good enough in his eyes. His mother was smart to leave when she did.

He felt a hand grip tightly in his hair as he was forced to look up at his father who began his usual furious screams of accusations and insults which Chris had learned to tune out early on whilst pretending to listen to every word.

Feeling he damn well had gotten his point across to the boy, Frank roughly shoved his son out of the room without another word and slammed the door.

'Well that wasn't so bad.' Chris thought as he staggered down the hall to his bedroom, dizzy from where he hit his head and grimacing at the copper taste in his mouth. And still, he did not regret one moment of it.

\- o - o - o -

The next morning Chris awoke early as he normally did to finish up an assignment for the business program that he was taking in college. It wasn't due until the following Wednesday, but his father demanded the weekend be used for schoolwork. Whereas most people his age would be out having fun, Chris could be found stuck at home seated at his computer until his work was complete and to Frank's standards.

He didn't bother showering, only threw on a pair of jeans and went straight for his computer to get as much done as possible so he wasn't stuck here all day. Not that it mattered as he was probably grounded for the weekend anyways.  _'Who grounds their twenty-one year old? Fuck.'_

He always thought on just getting his own place, but that would mean he would need money, which as it may come to a surprise to most, Chris didn't have. He was kept on a very small allowance and besides, not having worked a day in his life, he couldn't see any place hiring him with his lack of experience.

Starting up his computer, Chris rested his face into his hand as he waited for the device to boot up. He winced at the contact and quickly brought his head back up; figuring he probably had a decent sized bruise from when his father hit him the night before.  _'Great.'_

He was running out of excuses when others questioned him as to what happened and using the 'I got in a fight' excuse was getting old fast.

By habit, Chris logged into his social media account first before starting any work; a useless move as he barely had anyone on his friend's list. He scrolled through the list of name's that were online as a sudden thought popped into his head. Clicking the search bar he typed in Dave's full name and easily found his profile before scanning through the man's pictures.

' _Heh. Dork.'_ Chris smiled widely as he came across old high school pics of his new friend.

' _It wouldn't be totally creepy to add him, right? I mean, we're friends now..'_  Chris hovered the mouse over the Add Friend button and instead figured he'd message him first.

' _Don't sound weird. Just a simple hello.'_  He was making far too big a deal out of this than he should.

'hey! its chris :-).' He typed before hitting the Send button and leaning back in his chair with a sigh of relief. Probably could have done without the smiley icon though.

' _There. How hard was that?'_

Apparently pretty difficult as he realized he had just wasted over an hour scrolling through Dave's entire profile and driving himself nuts as to what to say to the guy. He was never the type that was ever at a loss for words, but when it came to Dave, Chris could hardly manage a basic 'hello'. And trying to comprehend why wasn't something he had time for at the moment.

' _Damnit. Gotta finish this essay.'_ He tried to keep his mind busy with the incredibly boring paper on Entrepreneurship (crap he already knew a lot about anyways with his family having a business of their own), but couldn't help tabbing over to his social media account every so often, more like every thirty seconds, to check his messages.

' _Why hasn't he replied yet? Maybe I shouldn't have messaged him. Maybe…maybe he's just not online right now. Did I piss him off somehow?'_

He passed off his anxiousness as just excitement of having a new friend that he could actually talk about comic books and video games with, be himself around rather than having to keep up that intimidating, corrupt D'amico image that everyone feared.

\- o - o - o -

Dave would have given anything to get out of work early. The theater was buzzing with people, like it normally did on weekends. The lines of people forming in front of Jessica's and his booth were starting to become impatient the longer they waited to be serviced. One particular man went off on him about how slow he was, and told him in an angry voice that a machine could replace him at his job before he snatched his tickets and walked deeper into the theater. Dave worked as quickly and efficiently as he could to meet his customers demands, and when the flow of people started to ebb away, he felt thankful that he could finally have a little peace.

If Dave was claustrophobic, this wouldn't be his ideal job (not that it was already, he hated it in fact). The box he had to remain inside was extremely stuffy. He silently made a vow to himself that he would never get a job again where he was forced to sit inside a cube for six hours. The experience was not unlike being trapped inside a cage.

Dave pulled out his phone from his pocket and began fiddling around with it. He knew that if his manager caught him, he'd be in for another lecture (the guy didn't like him for some reason), but he almost wanted that to happen just so he would have an excuse to quit. But there weren't any available job spots in his area, he'd been looking, and until one opened up, Dave was stuck with his incredibly lame career of ticket selling.

He checked for any missed messages or texts, but there was none. Dave sighed to himself. He should really try to socialize more, his friends barely contacted him anymore and he found himself deleting more and more of the numbers in his phone. He guessed that was the price he payed for trying to be responsible, and working and studying instead of partying around like everyone else.  _'I haven't checked my facebook in a while, I wounder if I got any messages on there...'_

Dave logged into his account and was promptly directed to home, where in the corner of the page flashed red, signaling that someone indeed was trying to contact him. He smiled to himself as he recognized the sender, and began typing his own message as a reply. 'hey, what's up?' He hit enter, and the message sent. He hoped the other boy was still online, his reply was a little late.

Focusing on work deemed nearly impossible; Chris was far too distracted with Facebook, impatiently awaiting a reply from someone who, only a day ago, he had loathed more than anything. His heart jumped at the alert of a new message and his pulse quickened when he saw who it was from. It was highly unlikely that essay will be finished now.

'homework -_-. u?' he responded with eagerness.

Dave spared a quick glance around himself, checking to see if anyone was looking, before he typed his own reply and hit send. 'Work. It's boring here.'

' _That was quick'_ Chris thought to himself with a grin as he immediately replied back.

'i would luv to work there! u guys prolly get discounts on all the movies and see all the new ones before anyone else gets to.'

He was secretly jealous of Dave's life; sure, they weren't as well-off like Chris' family was, but to just live a normal life was something he always dreamed of.

'It does have some benefits, I'll admit.' Dave wrote back _. 'There are a lot of things that suck about it too, like the douche bag manager, and these stupid booths.'_  He thought.

'i'd come visit u on ur break or somethin but i'm kinda grounded.'

'That sucks, man. When you're done being grounded, hit me up, and we could meet somewhere.'

Chris smirked as he read the last part of Dave's message; apparently he wasn't that familiar with Frank D'amico. 'when i'm done being grounded. lol . that's a good one man. prolly gonna have to just sneak out again.' Chris very much considered this idea. It was time he started making his own decisions as to who he hung out with and when he chose to come home; he wasn't a damn teenager anymore.

'It's kinda weird that you aren't allowed to go anywhere. My dad lost the ability to ground me when I was 18. We're like, legally adults now.'

'his house, his rules,' was all he could come back with. Chris had never known any differently, but that never stopped him from doing what he wanted from time to time. Writing up another message, he hit send. 'what time u finish work at? maybe we could grab a drink or somethin to eat or whatever.' ' _What the fuck am I doing!?'_  It was like, his fingers just kept typing while his brain was screaming at him to stop.

'A drink sounds good right about now. ;) my shift is over in another hour.' Was he really going to meet up with Chris again? It was almost like he landed himself in a parallel universe where they didn't hate each other.

' _Did he just send me the wink icon? That's…kinda gay, but whatever.'_ Chris chuckled at this whilst viewing the rest of the message. He took a glance at his Rolex; alright, still had lots of time if Dave finished work in an hour.

'we can just drink here if u want. my dads working super late tonight so I got the place to myself. totally got the new call of duty if ur interested. :D'

' _Did I seriously just invite this guy to my house? Dave fuckin Lizewski?'_ Yep.

There was a clicking sound of the door opening, and Dave swiveled in his chair to face the wall as he stuffed his phone inside his pants. When his cell was hidden from sight, Dave turned back around to see who was imposing on his space. It was his manager, Gary. The old man stood there with an accusing glare. "No slacking. We don't pay you kids to play with your little gadgets." Not waiting for a response, he left the room to pester some other employee.

Dave sighed, typing out one last text before pressing send. 'Manager just stormed in and caught me texting you. igtg. And all of that sounds good.'

Not wanting Dave to get into any more trouble than he was already in with his boss, Chris didn't reply and instead closed his computer down and headed straight for his en-suite bathroom to get ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave didn't say anything as he regarded the other who seemed pretty insistent on looking anywhere but at him. His eye's widened at what the boy was implying. Was he telling the truth? The guy looked pretty serious. 'His dad hits him?'

After one of the quickest showers he had ever taken, Chris threw on the pair of dark grey boxer shorts he had brought with him to the bathroom and stepped in front of the mirror, wiping the condensation from it with his hand before reaching for the toothbrush and toothpaste.

Grabbing the small bottle of hair-gel beside him, he ran the liquid through his short black locks, spiking it up in his usual style with his fingers.

A few more quick glances to make sure every strand was in place; Chris rushed back to his bedroom to continue getting ready as he stepped into the massive walk-in closet to choose an outfit. He opted for a more casual-styled, light-blue, button down dress shirt and a pair of his favorite loose-fitting black jeans.

His heart was racing and he was sweating so much he thought he'd likely have to change his shirt before he met with Dave. He had never been so nervous in his entire life and he couldn't figure out why.

It hadn't even occurred to Chris just how much time had passed until he fixed his watch back into place on his wrist and noticed the time. He had about five minutes before Dave's shift ended and figured it'd be alright to message him now.

Chris reached for his cell phone on his nightstand and logged onto his Facebook account.

'u want me to pick u up? need to go home first or anything?' he sent, as he plopped down on his bed and waited for a response.

Dave replied to the others text a minute later, having just exited his suffocating booth. 'Yeah to both. need to change out of these work clothes.' He felt strangely giddy that the guy was even giving him his time of day. It was a nice change from the nasty attitude Chris usually directed towards him.

'alright. leavin now. b there soon.'

Chris grabbed his jacket from the hall closet and headed for the elevator and out to his car.

The ten minute drive to the theater gave Chris a chance to think.

One minute they were enemies (or at least they were in his eyes) and now he's got the guy coming over to his condo.

Did he ever really hate the guy in the first place? Or was it something different? The thought that Dave would never even speak to a guy like him much less want to be his friend; Chris had been completely wrong about that. He was always so quick to judge; a flaw in himself that he was well aware of, but couldn't control.

He parked his car out front of the large theater and left it running as he waited for Dave, taking one more quick check of himself in his rear view mirror and catching site of the large bruise on the right side of his face. In his haste this morning to get ready, Chris hadn't even noticed it until now.  _'God damnit.'_

Dave smiled brightly, spotting Chris' car from the entrance. He jogged over to where the younger man parked and pulled open the door without a warning. Concern instantly replaced his grin as he perused the painful looking mottled bruise on Chris' temple, extending downwards to his cheek.

"Hey, man. How's it go-" Before Chris could finish his greeting, Dave interrupted him.

"What happened?"

"Oh uh, this," pointing at the mark on his face, "ya know sometimes when you wake up in the morning and you've got a mark on your body that you cannot for the life of you remember how you got it? Well, when you're as clumsy as I am, it happens a lot." He tried to laugh it off, hoping that Dave would buy it, but by the looks of it Dave obviously wasn't falling for his story.

Dave didn't buy the others excuse for two reasons. Number one, Chris was acting all weird about it. Number two, things like _that_  don't just happen in your sleep. The boys flimsy laugh only increased his suspicion tenfold that he wasn't telling the truth.  _'Maybe he got into a fight and lost and he's just too embarrassed to admit it.'_ The guy sure knew how to run his mouth; it probably got him into trouble all the time. Dave had just seen an example of that yesterday at the comic store. That idea did seem plausible, however, the guy looked more on edge and fidgety than embarrassed.

Chris fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket and contemplated on just telling him the truth. It probably wasn't much of a secret to anyone, including Dave, that Frank D'amico wasn't exactly father of the year. The D'amico family was known for their brutal, merciless, completely overbearing nature; it would be a shock if the man had the ability to show kindness to  _anyone_.

"Or umm…" he started slowly, looking away from Dave as he spoke "or my dad may just be a total fuckin prick. But it's okay. I'm used to it. No big deal." He shrugged it off, not really wanting to discuss it further and instead asked quickly, "so, which way to your place?"

Dave didn't say anything as he regarded the other who seemed pretty insistent on looking anywhere but at him. His eye's widened at what the boy was implying. Was he telling the truth? The guy looked pretty serious.  _'His dad hits him?'_ It came as a surprise for Dave, who had never been hit in his life by his own father. But now that he thought about it, the idea wasn't so far fetched.

Dave was saddened by this revelation.  _'He's used to it? Just how long has his dad been hitting him?'_ He wanted to ask Chris these questions. But the guy looked like he didn't want to say anything else about the subject. Instead of blurting something that could possibly get him kicked out, Dave absentmindedly delivered the directions to his house and starred hard out the window.

Chris brought his eyes up to meet Dave's. The older boy seemed to understand that he didn't want to talk about about it, and for that he was grateful. Smiling slowly, he offered a simple, "thanks."

Dave had actually been the only person he had ever been honest with concerning his father and this sudden trust he gave the older boy was strange; strange, but kind of nice at the same time to be able to get that out.

"Alright, let's get goin."

\- o - o - o -

Chris' eyes widened upon arrival at their destination. He had never been in this part of town and, where most would consider this the more grubby area of Staten Island, Chris was in awe as he stared at Dave's modest home. He wasn't judging, criticizing; just admiring how simple Dave had it. How normal of a life the other boy had compared to his own and what he would give to have the same.

"It won't take long." Dave promised while unbuckling his seat belt.

"No problem, man. Take your time."

Dave jogged into his house. As soon as he was within the sanctity of his room, he began to shed his uniform. He grabbed whatever he had that lying around that was clean, which happened to be standard blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt. Dave descended the steps, shrugging on a jacket as he went. He informed his father that he would be hanging out with a friend, and then he was out the door again.

"There." He said, the car door slamming behind him. "I'm ready."

"Well, that was fast. Christ, I'm like a damn girl when getting ready." Chris laughed as they took off towards his home.

They arrived back at Chris' condominium where the younger man led his friend to the elevator and up to the penthouse suite he called home.

He unlocked the door and peered inside, making absolute certain his dad wasn't home before stepping into the large, open-concept suite.

"This place is huge." Dave said in awe, trailing behind the other as he led the way. He felt out of place just looking into the spacious penthouse. His eyes darted around with interest. He'd never been in any place like this before, and he was impressed.

Chris blushed at his friend's reaction to the place he himself wasn't impressed by one bit. "Yeah, I guess."

He suddenly felt that familiar anxiousness creep up on him as he watched Dave explore his condo in amazement. He felt uncomfortably hot, nervous, excited all at the same time as he kept his eyes on the taller man in front of him.

"Uh, so you want somethin to drink?" he motioned for Dave to follow him to his bedroom where he kept his own stock of liquor. "Got pretty much everything here."

"Yeah." came his reply, he had somehow forgotten that was his reason for coming over here, well that, and to chill with Chris. He broke out in a wolfish grin as he followed the other to his room. Unable to stop himself, Dave scoured the new room as he was introduced to it. He felt like he was being given access to something few people did.

Chris chuckled quietly to himself as Dave's reaction upon seeing his place was, again, priceless.

"Alright, well, just choose what you want," Chris replied as he opened up a large cupboard on the wall displaying an abundance of expensive alcohols, "and take a seat," gesturing towards the leather sofa against the far wall in his bedroom that faced a massive 64'' television, "be right back."

He headed for the kitchen to grab a couple glasses as well as attempt to calm himself from the realization that the guy was in his bedroom at this very moment.

He leaned his elbows against the granite counter-top as he analyzed his thoughts.  _'He's just a friend. Just a friend. Just hangin out, drinking, playin some video games. That's all. What the hell is the big deal?'_

He dragged his fingers through his hair and released the breath he seemed to be holding in _. 'What is wrong with you, Chris?'_  He inwardly scolded himself as he collected the glasses and started back to his bedroom.

Dave stood amazed by the sight of so much alcohol in one place. Out of the huge collection of liquor, Dave was unable to decide on which one he wanted to try, and so he just randomly selected one. He did as the other boy advised and collapsed onto the comfortable couch with his liquor of choice in tow.

Chris reappeared to find Dave now seated and with a bottle of simple Bacardi Rum in his hand. He grinned widely as he closed the liquor cabinet, "Nice choice," and settled himself next to his friend. They were so close due to the lack of space on the small love-seat and Chris could feel the heat radiating off the other man.

"Umm..." his voice trailing off as he somewhat forgot what he was going to say, "if you, uh, want pop with it I got some Coke in the fridge here." Chris tapped a shaky hand against the bar fridge beside the sofa.

"Some coke would be awesome." Dave took a glass as it was handed to him, conscious of the fleeting feel of the others fingers as they brushed against his.

Chris leaned over towards the fridge and grabbed out two cans of cold pop; just what he needed as his entire body felt as if it were on fire.

"Here, hand me that." He reached for the bottle of rum in Dave's hand and poured a generous amount of the alcohol into the glasses followed by the soda.

"Cheers." Chris grinned, clinking his glass against Dave's before downing the entire contents.

Dave watched Chris gulp down his drink, his adams apple bobbing as he drained his cup. He realized then that he should probably follow the others lead, and brought his own cup up to his lips. He drank at a much slower pace than his short friend, taking a few swigs every so often. Dave wasn't much of a drinker, though he did partake in the occasional beer.

"Ahh. Good stuff, right?" Bringing his glass down from his lips, about to pour himself another when he noticed Dave had barely touched his drink. "Why you so quiet, man? Y'alright? Don't drink much?" He questioned, pouring the equivalent of three shots into his own cup. Or maybe it was that Chris drank more than most. With both his parents being alcoholics themselves, it was no surprise that Chris developed the bad habit at a young age.

The rum and coke mixed drink wasn't bad, it just wasn't something Dave was used to. He responded with a nod to the others question, though the man didn't seem to catch it as he was reaching for the bottle to pour himself another glass. "Not really." He admitted to the second question fired at him. "You must think I'm a pussy."

"No. I don't think you're a pussy. You don't have to drink it if you don't want to. You're just actin' kinda strange, is all." Though he had to admit this whole thing was strange. He and Dave on speaking-terms wasn't exactly something most people would have seen coming.

Chris was hoping he hadn't made a mistake by bringing Dave to his place; the guy was acting very weird, well, weirder than what he had known him to be in the past. He prayed this wasn't just some big joke Dave and his friends were playing on the loner, rich kid; pretending to befriend him only to shoot him down. It's not like it would be the first time to happen to him.

"I am?" Dave considered what he was doing that could be perceived as strange. He guessed he was behaving a little distant; he hadn't forgotten about Chris's bruise, and how the boy said he got it. Those thoughts were very distracting. Or maybe the other caught him staring when he was drinking?

"Well, yeah, a little. If there's something I did or whatever's bothering you, just say it, man." At least it would give them something to talk about, whatever was going through Dave's head. Chris had confided in him, which was not something he ever did; the least Dave could do was show him the same trust. Isn't that what friends did?

Chris got the feeling that maybe Dave was bored? Was that what it was? He wasn't all that accustomed to having someone over and didn't quite know how to entertain guests. He tapped his fingers against his empty glass as he tried to think up something to talk about or do.

"Uhh, you wanna game? Call of Duty?" Chris finally spoke up.

Dave thought he should probably loosen up, it looked like whatever he was doing subconsciously was making the other feel weirded out. And so he tipped back his cup, draining what remained of his drink. He could afford to get a little tipsy.

"Sure. Sounds fun." Dave said, setting his empty cup down.

Chris' eyes lit up. "That's better, jeez. Was beginning to think I was boring you or something. Keep up!"

"Dude, I am so gonna destroy you!" Chris taunted.

"Is that right? I'll make you eat those words." Dave quipped, his mouth contorting in an impish grin.

Chris set his empty cup on the coffee table in front of them before getting up from the sofa to set up the game. He didn't make it very far as he stumbled around the table only to trip over his own feet and knock his glass, the (sealed, thankfully) bottle of alcohol and himself onto the floor in the process.

"Shit, fuck, I'm alright, I'm good," his words slurring ever so slightly as he attempted to pick himself up from the floor.

Even as the seasoned drinker that he was, he was never very good at handling his alcohol and those four or five shots that he had rather quickly tossed back were beginning to take effect.

"Maybe you shouldn't have anymore to drink." Dave said in his own, slightly inebriated voice. The decent buzz he had going felt nice, and it wasn't hard for him to understand why some people enjoyed drinking so much. It was nearly euphoric.

"Need any help?" Dave asked, he started to lift himself up from the couch, only to discover he wasn't that better off than Chris. His legs felt like jelly, which was really interesting. He poked at his own uncooperative legs and tried to will them to move.

"Dude, I'm fine, really," Chris insisted; one hand on the sofa for support as he lifted himself back up. "I just need to sit down for a sec." He leaned his body back against the couch let out a defeated grunt. "I think I prolly drank that too fast." He giggled as he turned half-lidded eyes towards Dave.

Dave gave a short laugh of his own. "What?" His question was accompanied by another chuckle.

"We will get to that game eventually, I swear. And then,  _then_ you are  _so_  going down."

"No way, dude. I'm gonna wipe the floor with you." He grinned crookedly, mirroring the others look. Dave didn't bother to disguise his stare, watching the other openly.  _'He's kinda cute.'_  He blinked in confusion.  _'Wait. Can guys with goatees be cute? Or would hot be a better word to describe him ...?'_ Dave, in his drunken mind, was more concerned about whether he was using the right word to describe Chris, rather than the fact he was actually thinking about another man in this way.

Maybe it was the alcohol clouding his brain, but Chris found he really enjoyed just sitting there staring at Dave and it was becoming more difficult to take his eyes off the man, no matter how creepy he probably looked doing so.

Chris normally drank alone; it was his way of drowning out the deep depression that he hid so well, allowing him to forget, even if just for a couple of hours, how shitty his life truly was. But this time seemed different; he couldn't hold back that goofy grin and actually felt…happy. Giddy. He decided he ought to have this guy over more often to drink with.

"What? Yeah. Sure." He wasn't exactly listening to the other, more so just gawking at him like a damn weirdo; people did tend to just kind of stare off into nothing when they were drunk…right? But Dave was certainly not  _'nothing'._

' _I wonder how he looks without those goofy glasses…'_  Not that he looked bad with them, no; definitely no.  _'He couldn't look bad even if he tried.'_

Chris quickly darted his eyes away shyly at this last thought; confused and intoxicated, silently trying to blame these random, complicated thoughts on the alcohol.  _Unfortunately_  though, he wasn't completely shit-faced out of his head and really had nothing to blame for these feelings except his own, fairly sober, mind.

' _Oh, God, what is wrong with me?!'_  Chris shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

' _He's so fuckin hot…'_  There. In his mind, he said it. Done. Over with. Now back to just hanging out as friends and doing whatever the hell friends do…if that included ravaging each other's bodies until neither could take it anymore.

"Holy fuck! I- I need some water. You want some water? Yeah, you do, okay, I'll be right back." He didn't bother to wait for Dave's reply as he made all effort to stand and make his way out into the kitchen, half-leaning against the walls for support.

There was water in the fridge in his bedroom, but Chris just had to get out of that room.

"I'm gonna have more of that rum stuff while your gone." Dave called out, overall amused by Chris' not-at-all-strange outburst.

The bottle was still on the ground, and Dave managed to retrieve it with his foot without having to get up at all. He removed the lid and didn't bother to reach for his glass to pour it in. The cup was too far away in Dave's opinion; despite it being within closer proximity than the bottle originally was. He tipped his head back and took a long gulp of the intoxicating substance. It tasted different, stronger than his first glass of the stuff. _'Well duh. That one had coke in it.'_  He reminded himself. But his mind was so muddled that it was hard to even recall that bit of information.  _'Meh...'_ He took another swig from the bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He will literally murder the both of us if he finds you so just stay here for now." The younger declared; his words littered with fear as he closed the door on his friend.

"Whatever you want." Chris called back, not hearing a word Dave had said about the rum as he quickly exited the room.

 _'I'm not gay; I couldn't be, right?'_ Fuck, no. It was revolting, unnatural; one of many things that his father would probably literally kill him for.

And yet, was he really sure? Having never been with a guy or girl before, how can one really know without…testing the waters a bit? He thought on this for a split second before determining how completely impossible it was.

' _It's just the alcohol. That's it.'_ Chris thought; desperately trying to convince himself, as he paced drunkenly around the large kitchen.  _'Just gonna go back in there and…and…'_ His mind trailed off.

"Kiss him." he said out loud; instantly stopping in his tracks.  _'I really, REALLY want to kiss him…'_

Staggering through the hall, Chris approached his bedroom and noticed Dave helping himself to more rum.  _'Good. At least he's pretty drunk, too. That makes it okay…right? Fuck it. Doesn't even matter.'_

With an extra bout of confidence (mostly thanks to the liquor), Chris stumbled his way over to where Dave was seated and dropped right down into the boy's lap before gripping his face and planting probably one of the most awkward kisses he was sure Dave had ever received, upon his lips.

Dave blinked in surprise. It was so graceless, the way Chris held his face and pressed those bruising lips against his that Dave couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Dave tilted his head, the angle giving him the advantage of delivering a deeper kiss uninterrupted by bumping noses. His eye's slipped closed, both hands coming to rest around Chris' body as the bottle gripped in his fist tapped lightly against the mans shoulder. The first thing he noticed was that it felt incredibly good, the pair of warm, soft, inexperienced lips pressing against his. There was also something else, the strange and unfamiliar scratchy feeling of the boys facial hair rubbing against his skin made him keenly aware this was another man he was kissing.

A wave of relief washed over him as Dave seemed to fully accept the younger's inexperienced and clumsy kiss. He swore there was absolutely nothing that felt better than kissing Dave Lizewski, well, besides the sensation of grinding himself against his friend's lap of course, that wasn't too bad either.

Chris slipped his arms around Dave's waist and pressed himself as close to the other's body as he could manage; a small moan escaping his lips while he relished in the contact. His fingers dug hard into the soft material of Dave's shirt while he felt himself getting hotter by the second; pulling the older boy's larger frame against him for more friction. He had never felt anything like this in his entire life and it was like he couldn't get enough no matter how hard he tried.

The kiss became less chaste and a lot more heated as the man on top of him set a rhythmic pace of clashing hips. It was sensational, the feeling of their denim clad lower halves as they rubbed against each other. The desperation in their vigorous grinding matched the needy kisses the boys exchanged as they clung onto one another.

The knuckles on his hand turned white, clenching the rum bottle in his fist tightly. His grip slackened and the object slipped through his fingertips. The bottle resounded with dull thud while miraculously not shattering; though its contents emptied onto the floor.

Dave pawed at Chris's clothing, drawing him impossibly closer. He wanted every inch of that body pressed up against his. Warm puffs of air wafted across his face with every breath he took. The breath hitched in his throat before he groaned lowly, responding to the others chirps of pleasure. The other's tactless approach at kissing was slowly becoming tainted with skill as he demonstrated his own. He fought impatiently to slip his tongue inside of the mans mouth, to taste more of him.

Chris accepted the intrusion with little resistance, savoring both the strong essence of the alcohol and this very new sensation as Dave's tongue caressed his. 

Hands worked their way from around the slim waist and up into the locks of the dirty-blonde hair; Chris' fingers tangling into the strands, gripping tightly as if afraid Dave would pull away from him. It was clear though that the other had absolutely no intention of stopping and only seemed to cling to him just as tightly. Chris noted how surprisingly strong Dave was for his slender build as the man held him close, refusing to let go.

"Want you," he whispered hungrily through their kiss, barely noticing just how much his own body was trembling. He just needed more of Dave, all of Dave, anything he could possibly get from the other.

The hands tugging insistently at Dave's hair only served to work him up further; there was a certain desperation to the act, it was like Chris needed him.  _Needed this._

He never wanted anyone, not even Katie as much as he wanted Chris in that moment. Dave was unable to help himself and switched their positions in one quick movement. Pushing Chris to lay on his back, Dave closed the space between them and covered Chris' body with his own. His lips capturing Chris' in a drawn out kiss.

Chris sighed softly at the feel of Dave's strong body pressed against his and breathed the other's scent in deeply. Oh yeah, this was  _way_  better.

He instinctively raised his hips to gain more of that friction that was lost during the brief moment Dave flipped their positions. His arms came to wrap around Dave's body; reaching up past the cotton shirt and pressing his hands against the small of his friend's well-defined back, Chris grinded the other down hard onto him while gasping at the intense jolt of pleasure it caused.

Chris slowly opened his hazel-brown eyes as he felt something cold slide down beside his face and smiled against the other's man lips when he noticed Dave's glasses had slipped from his face.

"Open your eyes", Chris murmured; wanting to see him without the distraction of his glasses.

Responding to the soft spoken request, Dave's eyes blinked open to behold Chris' wondrous bedroom gaze. 

Chris shied away from their passionate kiss and bit down wantonly on his lip when those dazed, vibrant blue eyes fixed onto his and the sculpted muscles of Dave's lower back flexed against his small fingers. "Fuck…" he uttered breathlessly; Dave was truly gorgeous and he could only imagine what the rest of this man looked like under those ill-fitting clothes that did nothing to help his appearance.

His confidence fueled by a desperate need, Chris took hold of the hem of his partner's shirt and tugged upwards; indicating his want for the other to take it off.

\- o - o - o -

Frank D'Amico was thrilled to be finished work at this hour; it was rare for him to be heading home while the sun was still out and he took his time driving at a leisurely pace. It had been a good day; a tad boring as the mob boss didn't have to kill anyone today, but there was always tomorrow.

Pulling into his reserved parking space alongside his son's old Mercedes, Frank noticed the boy was still home.

' _Good'_ he thought, as he stepped out into the dimly-lit, private underground parking lot, clearly the boy had learned from the last time he decided to go against him. He wasn't a bad kid, but sometimes it took a little more effort on Frank's part to lead him in the right direction.

He loosened his tie and un-tucked his shirt from his dress pants as he rode the elevator; glancing down at his gold wristwatch when he reached the top floor.

' _Just in time for dinner.'_ He smiled. That was definitely a first.

The doors slid open and Frank stepped into his lavish home, heading straight for the kitchen where his three chefs were preparing a meal.

"Sir," the one cook nodded to him, avoiding eye contact.

The three of them were completely silent as they worked, which Frank found incredibly odd as it was normally quite the ruckus in the kitchen with his lead chef barking out orders.

He stared at them in confusion before shrugging it off and tossing his briefcase onto the table; they were probably just as surprised as he was to see him home so early.

Finding the silence of his chefs strangely uncomfortable, Frank retreated to his office to finish what extra work he may have; there was always work to be done, but it was nice to be home at least.

The door to his son's bedroom was closed as he passed by and the man figured he'd check on him as soon as his work was complete. He had a tall order of cocaine to fill for a very rich client in Boston that he had putting off for too long now.

\- o - o - o -

Chris pushed himself up to a seated position and gladly assisted his friend in removing his top, tugging it over his head and whipping it across the room and starting on his own.

Sitting back, Dave waited in his feverish state for Chris to finish removing his top, but it seemed he was having trouble.

' _Fucking buttons!'_  Chris cursed; of all the days to wear a damn, tight-fitting dress shirt as his trembling hands could barely get a grasp on the buttons. He managed to unfasten the top few as he sensed his partner's impatience growing. "It's Armani for fuck sakes. I can't just rip the thing off! Do you even know how much this shirt costs!"

"I don't care. Hurry and take it off." Dave instructed, his eager hands dived down to join Chris's shaking ones, making quick work out of the buttons.

"Alright, alright. Fuckin' help me here." The younger boy whined, allowing Dave to toss his expensive shirt aside. Chris found himself immediately on his back again as his restless partner dived for him; closing the distance between their half-naked bodies and stealing another fervent kiss.

Dave craved more skin on skin contact; his skillful hands explored Chris' chest, feeling the younger mans body melt underneath his touch.

Chris inhaled deeply at the warm, crushing weight of Dave's slender, but muscled physique molding perfectly against his much smaller one. He dragged his fingernails up Dave's back then back down again to grip, almost painfully, at his sides; longing to run his hands over every inch he could reach at that moment. He gasped sharply when soft lips brushed his neck and groaned when those lips latched hard onto the sensitive areas of his neck. Dave seemed to know every move to cause the less experienced boy to cry out in pleasure.

He greedily craved more; as downright incredible as this was, it just didn't seem to be enough. His friend was teasing him crazy and he damn-well knew it. And he was still far too timid to fully word his desires.

"Dave…?" was all he could seem to manage as the look in his eyes begged for his partner to take this further.

Pausing at the sound of the mans voice calling his name, Dave withdrew slowly, hoping to god that Chris wouldn't ask him to stop. He desperately wanted this to continue. Dave leaned back to regard the others expression and saw the needy want plainly written there. Encouraged by this, Dave reattached his mouth to Chris's neck and slid hands down the boys sides.

Chris grasped the others' wrists as he followed them down his body to the start of his jeans, pushing hard against Dave's hands for him to go lower. Fingers found the belt loops of his loose jeans and began to pull at them.

"Wait." Chris whispered; undoing the button on his pants and yanking down the zipper to make it easier. He lifted his hips slightly for Dave to tug his jeans down and propped himself to help take them off. 

Dave's mouth didn't break contact with his neck the entire time he stripped him of his jeans. His lips nipped and sucked at Chris skin as he listened to him illicit those sounds that made his body thrum with excitement. 

"Mmm." Chris moaned, dropping his head to the side to give his lover better access to his neck. His mouth fell open as he no longer tried to contain the cries of pleasure that his partner was so effortlessly drawing from him.

\- o - o - o -

"Done." Tossing his arms behind his head Frank leaned back in his chair and rested his head against his hands, finally able to relax and knowing he had over a hundred thousand dollars coming his way just from this simple deal.

"Hey, boy!" he called from his office; giving Chris a moment to respond.

' _Huh, that's weird…'_ he thought to himself as he failed to receive a response. Usually when he called for him the kid was at his door before Frank could even blink an eye.

"Chris!" raising his voice a little in hopes he would be heard.

Chris' eyes immediately shot open and his entire body tensed at the sound of his father's voice _. 'Holy. Shit,'_ he thought as he sat upright _, 'What the fuck is he doing home so early?'_

"Get off me, come on, hurry up, my dad's home!" Chris practically  _threw_ the larger boy off both himself and the sofa.

Dave dropped onto the floor, narrowly missing the coffee table. "Ow. What the-" He was then forced to stand up before he was pushed into a large closet.

"He will literally murder the both of us if he finds you so just stay here for now." The younger declared; his words littered with fear as he closed the door on his friend.

With Dave hidden, Chris darted over to his computer to boot it back up and get his homework loaded on the screen before frantically searching for both his jeans and shirt to throw back on quickly; troubling himself with the buttons of his top and managing to do up a few which was good enough for now as he heard the knock at his door.

"Hey, dad. H-How long you been home for?" He smiled, opening the door and struggling to keep from possibly slurring his words.

The pleasant effects of his drunkenness had worn off and the  _after_ effects of it were beginning to kick in as his head spun from the numerous shots of hard liquor only an hour or so ago.

"Not long. You alright, kid?" His father immediately asked, noticing the rather disheveled state his son was in. Ignoring the bruise on his face (as he knew perfectly well where that came from), Frank looked Chris up and down in confusion; half-buttoned, half-tucked-in dress shirt, hair that was normally styled meticulously looked as though the kid hadn't run a comb through it in a week, his face and neck flushed beat-red, and his eyes were that of someone either incredibly high, drunk or had just been thoroughly fucked (which, if any of the three, Frank did  _not_ want to hear about it).

"You sick or somethin'?" Stepping closer to feel his forehead and noticing a small deep-red mark on the side his neck. "Is that…a  _hickey_?" Taking a tight hold of his son's chin with one large hand Frank forced his head to the side.

"N-No, it's umm," the boy stammered, but Frank cut him off as he noticed something else just as strange lying on the floor.

Releasing his grasp on Chris, Frank reached down and picked up a plain, white cotton t-shirt that never in a million years his son would  _ever_ be caught dead in and stared at it with disgust. "Where in the world did you get this?"

"Huh?" Chris' jaw dropped as he realized what his dad was holding:  _'Dave's shirt!'_

"Oh. Ha, that old thing. Ya," Chris laughed nervously as he tore the shirt from his father's hands, "just comfy shit I wear around the house when I know I'm not going anywhere that day."

"Is that so?" Frank questioned suspiciously; crossing his arms over his chest and examining the worn-out, shabby t-shirt that looked to be a size or two too large for his son.

Chris threw the shirt down behind him and extended an arm to rest against the door-frame; hoping to block out any other noticeable things that the boy's may have forgotten to hide during their scramble.

"I'm still workin' on that essay, so uh, I'll see you for dinner in a bit, kay?" His father knew something was up. Chris couldn't lie to save his life; a skill that Frank wished he had developed as lying was a strong requirement needed for their line of work.

"I'd like to see it." The man shoved past his son with little effort and stepped into his bedroom towards his computer.

' _Shit, shit, SHIT! This is not happening right now.'_

"I said it's not finished yet!" He scampered over to stop his dad from entering his room any further, but it was too late. And Frank had no intention of looking over schoolwork right now as his eyes scanned the boy's bedroom.

"When did you start wearing glasses?" Puzzled by the random pair lying carelessly on the floor as the mobster inspected the large room; he was fully aware the lack of attention he paid to his son, but he was sure he would have noticed this.

' _Oh my fucking GOD, come ON!'_

"They're fairly new, actually. Just noticed 'bout a week ago that I couldn't-" He was cut off once more as Frank marched towards him with  _that_  look on his face; a look Chris knew all too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris faintly heard the other’s voice as he struggled to remain alert. “I can’t. I can’t leave.” Was Dave nuts? “I don’t think you understand,” he started to explain; now fighting just to keep his eyes open as his body swayed, “we’re part of the mafia. There’s nothing that you can do.”
> 
> "I can take you with me. That's what I can do."

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” his father demanded while taking a hold of the boy’s shirt collar and twisting the material into his hands, holding him firmly in place.

“Nothing! I swear!”

“ _Nothing?_ ” He dragged his son over to the where the coffee table sat and the spilled alcohol had darkened the rug and threw him down onto the floor beside it.

“So you and your  _friend_ ,” motioning towards the two overturned cups with a nudge of his head, “ _weren’t_  just sitting around on your asses all day playing video games and drinking? And for some fucking reason he had his damn shirt off?”

There was really nothing Chris could say to this, not that he could get a word in anyways when his father started on his rants, and instead remained silent; keeping his eyes focused on the floor, not daring to look up at the callous man towering over him.

He whimpered as he was once again grabbed by the front of his shirt and roughly forced to his feet, still refusing to make any sort of eye contact. The back of his hair was gripped and his head was yanked back making it now difficult to avoid his father’s petrifying gaze. “Answer me, Chris!”

Dave stood anxiously, resisting the urge to fidget on the spot. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself, no, that would make things possibly a million times worse. 

The night started out so great, and now here he was, scared for his life hiding in a wardrobe. He wanted to bolt. To scram. To high tail it out of there. But he was supposed to be a superhero, and heros don't pull that shit, and he certainly didn't do that anymore. Also, he couldn't just leave Chris.

Dave couldn't see, but he could hear the mans angry voice as it rang out through out the room.  _'Oh shit.'_  Then there was more movement and it was coming towards him. 

Chris was so utterly terrified he couldn’t even speak and was dragged over to the closet where Dave was concealed and slammed hard up against the door.

Reaching for the concealed handgun he kept on him in the holster attached to his belt, the mob boss pointed the end of the barrel directly at his own son as he held him tight against the wooden entrance.

Shockingly, this wasn’t new. Death threats were a common thing in his household and Chris had become immune to them at a very young age; having trailing along with his dad to work occasionally and witnessing the most gruesome of murders right before his young eyes. Physical force and intimidation was the only way the crime lord knew how to control someone, how to make them talk, and his son was no exception to this form of punishment.

“Answer me, you piece of shit!” his voice thundering as he shook the boy fiercely, slamming his back once more against the hard surface before cocking his gun, readying the weapon.

Dave cringed, backing away from the door that threatened to rattle off it's hinges. And then there was a very distinct  _click_ noise on the other side of the door...  _'was that a gun?'_   The noise was slightly muffled by the closet entrance, but Dave knew that sound.  _'Oh hell we're gonna die! I'll never see my dad again and... shit I forgot to clear my browser history.'_ His heart was racing a million miles a minute as pure unadulterated terror rushed through him. 

“Fuck. You.” The words just flowed, before Chris could even  _try_  to stop himself. A person could only take so much and Chris was reaching his limit. He was sick of being controlled, interrogated, beaten for every little thing that, in his father’s eyes, went against what he considered proper.

Frank only chuckled and shook his head at this new little attitude his son had acquired.  Insolence was not something Frank D’Amico put up with, especially from his own child. No, this would not do at all.

Flipping the gun around in his hand, he cracked his son across the left side of his head with the handle with all his force before releasing his hold on the boy’s collar and letting him drop to the floor.

Chris could only lay there in shock and extreme dizzying pain as blood trickled down the side of his head staining the lightly-coloured carpet under him.

“Just let me know when you’re ready to talk, son. I’ll be in my office.” Frank stated as he simply walked away from his battered son; no emotion, no compassion, just a statement as if the man were having a normal, casual conversation.

Chris was conscious, but barely; unable to focus on his father’s words due to the intense pain as he lay groaning in agony.

Frank  knew the other guy was still somewhere in his son’s bedroom; he wouldn’t have left without a shirt and Frank would have spotted him sneaking out anyway. But he didn’t bother searching for him. He knew he’d kill him if he found the guy and he just was not in the mood right now having taken enough out on his son.

Frank departed for his office, closing Chris’ bedroom door on his way out without a second glance at his boy.

When the man was gone, Dave hurriedly moved to open the closet door to check and see if Chris was alright. He felt relief when he saw that the boy was breathing, and was still in fact, alive. Dave dropped to his knees to inspect him closer, panicking slightly at the sight of blood. "Oh my god, are you ok Chris? Please be ok." He whispered in a gravely concerned voice.

The blinding pain and the sound of his heart pounding heavily in his ears kept the boy conscious and he slowly tried to open his eyes. Chris would have laughed if he could when Dave questioned his state.

 Instead he thought to himself,  _‘Let’s determine that shall we? In less than forty-eight hours I’ve been backhanded, slammed against doors, screamed at, death threatened, thrown around, and smashed with a gun. I’m pretty sure I’ve probably broken SOMETHING from that fall and I swear to GOD if any blood gets on this shirt…’_

 Even in his severely injured state, Chris’ sarcastic nature couldn’t be contained. But instead he could only mutter groggily, “I’m fine,” against the stained carpet as he tried to move. And the truth is he kind of  _was_  alright. It was actually quite sad just how used to this brutality Chris really was.

 “Dave…go…” Chris couldn’t form the words to warn his friend to leave when he noticed Dave kneel down beside him. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said his dad would kill them both and if Frank were to walk in at this moment, he probably would.

Dave thought about what he could do to help the other. He was by no means a doctor, but he couldn't just sit back and watch Chris bleed all over himself. "Fuck. This is fucking fucked up." The taller man stood up to retrieve a cloth, and when he couldn't find one, he located his shirt instead. Dave dropped back down beside the boy, with his shirt balled up in his fist, and pressed the material to his wound. "It's really fucked up. How can you be fine with this?"

The boy hissed painfully at the fabric pressed onto the deep gash on his head. It was nice of Dave to try and help, but there really nothing he could do; this was a common occurrence and his friend needed to just stay the hell out of it.

Chris raised his head a few inches off the ground (all he could handle) and forced himself to look up at his worried companion. He ignored the man’s concern and ordered him to leave.

“Dave. You need, ugh, you need to go. Right now. If he finds you…” He dropped his head back down to the carpet, unable to hold himself up. He’d sleep it off, as usual, and apologize to his father for his behavior when he could manage to stand. “Just go.”

It just didn't feel right for him to leave Chris when he was like this. And then there was that nagging feeling inside of him that told him it was his fault. 

"I can't just go-" 

“It’s just a little scratch,” Chris said, voice rising in annoyance; “I’m fine.”

Chris took hold of Dave’s forearm and pulled himself up to a seated position in an attempt to confirm that he was alright; the movement only proved to be very painful though and Chris had a difficult time hiding it as his face contorted in pain.

Of course he didn’t ‘ _want_ ’ Dave to leave; he seemed to be the only one that gave a shit about him and the guy was only trying to help. But Chris knew his father and what he was capable of, as Dave witnessed firsthand, and he didn’t want anything happening to the only friend he ever had.

He knew he probably had a concussion; having been hit this bad a few times before, Chris knew what it felt like to have a serious head injury. He couldn’t let Dave know though; his friend was worried enough over him as it was.

“This,” Chris began as he gently traced a finger over the deep cut that ran just above his eyebrow and into this hairline, “is gonna be one bad-ass scar, right.” He smiled weakly at his pitiful attempt to lighten the mood.

Dave was unsettled by how Chris was handling the situation. He was treating it like it was nothing, when it really wasn't. Chris's dad was brutal, how could he hurt his own son like this? The guy was a maniac. Dave decided then that he had to get Chris the hell out of there. Even if the other refused, maybe he could try to persuade him.

"I'm bringing you with me. Come on." He urged.

Chris was beginning to nod off; the adrenaline from the pain that was keeping him conscious was wearing off and the dizziness and shock that he was in was causing him to just want to sleep. But he knew, if he did in fact have a concussion, that falling asleep was the last thing he should be doing.

Chris faintly heard the other’s voice as he struggled to remain alert. “I can’t. I can’t leave.” Was Dave nuts? “I don’t think you understand,” he started to explain; now fighting just to keep his eyes open as his body swayed, “we’re part of the mafia. There’s nothing that you can do.”

Dave eyed the other as his body seemed to be shutting down on him. The guy didn't look like he was in any condition to walk. Shifting to accompany Chris's weight, Dave flanked the boys side and meticulously pulled the smaller body to his chest; his strong arms coming to wrap behind his back and under his legs. Ignoring the others protests, he lifted the injured boy as he stood up, his legs legs wobbling a little before he steadied himself, but he blamed that on the alcohol that was still in his system.

"I can take you with me. That's what I can do."

It was useless to think he could resist in his condition and seemed to willingly give in; and Chris allowing Dave to lift him up into his arms. He dropped his bloodied head against Dave’s warm, bare chest and passed out instantly.

Dave carried the younger man as he walked across his large room and to the door. Dave peaked outside, to check if Frank was lingering in the halls waiting for him. But it appeared that the coast was clear, or at least, that was far as he could tell. Without his glasses he couldn't see very well from far distances, and he wasn't about to waste another minute to go on searching for his glasses when they could both end up dead.

Dave crept stealthily down the hall with Chris's limp body tucked in his arms. With some difficulty he managed to twist the front door knob while still keeping the boy levitated. He didn't waste anymore time, propelling forward as he neglected to close the door behind him. 

He climbed into an elevator and punched in the floor button while half-expecting flashing red lights and alarms.  _'I hope I don't get caught.'_   He wanted to get far away from the place before anyone noticed the D'amico heir was gone.  Dave's whole body tensed in anticipation for the elevator door to open up. The  _ding_ sound the elevator made as it reached the lobby floor was like music to his ears. 

The front desk attendant yawned deeply as he sat reclined in his chair, one foot crossed over the other with his legs resting on top of the desk. Another dull night at work…

“Whoa!” The man was suddenly startled out of his boredom; dropping his legs immediately to the floor with a thud as a look of both amusement and curiosity crossed his face. His eyes followed a half-naked young man darting through the lobby, clearly in some sort of hurry, and carrying---

“Holy shit!” The attendant’s eyes widened as he realized who this guy was holding. “Hey! Hey, you! Stop!” 

Dave refused to listen as he burst through the swing doors to the building. Once outside he broke out in a full on sprint, too scared to look behind him.

 - o - o - o - 

Frank sat forward in his chair, repeatedly tapping his fingers against the wooden surface of his desk as his mind worked through what just happened. Not one thought for what he did to his son, but rather what he had seen; though nothing had proved his suspicion more than that dark red, fresh hickey on the side of his son’s neck.

  _‘Oh my god.’_  He sighed in defeat, shaking his head at the outrageous discovery.  His son; his only son was… Frank didn’t even want to think about it.

  _‘It just had to be a GUY’S shirt that I found. Fuck.’_

 _‘He was drunk. That’s what it was.’_  Frank proclaimed to himself, trying to come up with some sort of justification for it all.  _‘Boys do a lot of stupid shit when they’re drunk.’_

He hoped this little phase or experimentation or whatever the hell it was, was now done with. No, it is done with and he would make damn sure of that.

Frank peered at his watch;  _‘kid should be asleep by now.’_

He knew from years of experience that most would pass out within minutes from that kind of blow to the head, but figured he ought to check on him anyhow. His main concern really being for the ruined carpet that now had to be replaced due to the stupid boy bleeding all over it; Chris would be paying out of his own pocket for that.

Frank made a mental note to fire his main kitchen staff (he had plenty chefs to call upon when needed); they were paid not only to cook, but to watch the boy as well.

He knew something was up the moment he had walked in and neither bothered to say a word to him. That can wait till later, Frank decided, rising from his chair; right now, he needed to “tend” to his son.

Frank made his way towards his son’s bedroom before stopping in his tracks as something caught the corner of his eye. The front was  _‘open..?’_

He swiftly retrieved his gun in hopes of catching whatever moronic thief had the balls to break into a D’Amico household.

Cautiously stepping through the halls he noticed a small red mark,  _‘blood?’_ , against the white tiled floor of the kitchen. “Fuck!” He roared, bolting to the boy’s room and finding him nowhere.

Frank spotted the boy’s cell phone on his nightstand as an idea formed in his head. He snatched the phone up and searched through it, easily decoding the password; so predictable his son was as Frank typed in Chris’ bitch-of-a-mother’s birthday.

At that moment the lobby man hurriedly buzzed the intercom of the D’Amico’s place in the penthouse suite. “Sir! Your son! He’s, somebody took---- I’m sorry, my first thought was to contact you. I’ll, uh, I’ll call security immediately---” 

“No no, leave them. I will handle this,” Frank responded, surprisingly cool and collected.

“But, sir--”

“Take the rest of the night off, Martin. You’ve done your job well.”

Frank sorted through emails, texts, pictures; anything that he could think of that would give him a clue as to who this guy was that had taken his son and still, he found nothing.

His eyes landed on one of the numerous icons Chris had installed on his phone: Facebook! Of course! All the kids were using that these days, right? He clicked on the symbol and quickly scanned his eyes through the social media site before landing on the Inbox and sorting through the (lack) of emails from people.

Dave Lizewksi; had to be the right guy, judging from these messages at least.

He skimmed through the boy’s profile; pictures, where he went to highschool, college, phone number, his home address…‘ _Dumbass kids putting everything online these days.’_

Oh, yeah, this was going to be  _easy._

He grinned wickedly as he hit the Reply button:  ‘Hello there, Dave. Question for you: ‘Do you  _‘really’_  think that’s a good idea? Kidnapping the mob boss’s son?’

\- o - o - o - 

Dave shivered slightly from the chilling air as goose bumps rose on his bare flesh. He could feel a headache coming on from all the stress, pent up anxiety, and liquor he ingested. Swallowing back the rising bile in his throat, Dave forced his legs to keep on moving at a brisk clip. His pace didn't slow as he was driven by the fear of the unknown fate Chris and he would receive at the hands of Frank if the man caught them.

He glanced downwards to judge whether or not Chris's condition improved. It appeared the gash in the boys head was healing, albeit, very slowly. The once nauseating flow of blood was gradually congealing. It was hard to tell just how big the wound actually was with so much dried blood caked on his face. The boy needed medical attention he realised. But it wasn't as if he could take him to a hospital or the emergency; Frank might have some of his goons stationed there, anticipating their arrival. Who could really tell when dealing with the mafia? There was really only two places they could go; to Dave's place, or _there._

 _'Yeah, I'm sure they would let us hide out for a while.'_  He thought, making a small detour as he ducked through an alley, and weaved his way through the streets. It was a tricky place to pin-point exactly, but Dave had been there countless times, the directions were practically hardwired in his brain.

Dave tapped the door with the tip of his shoe a couple of times, still clutching Chris protectively to his chest as he waited to be let in. It wasn't long before the all too familiar sound of the mechanical doors defenses shutting down; the inner workings 'clicking' and unfurling. The door opened, bathing him in light and momentarily blinding him as a shadowed figure stepped forward. 

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I mean, maybe this could really be our chance to take down Frank D'Amico once and for all. Just hear me out, alright?" He could see Dave already becoming defensive about it…and the question was why?

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" A large figure clad in a Kevlar-reinforced costume, very similar to that of Batman's, was already waiting for Dave before the mechanical door had finished opening. And he was  _not_ happy.

"What the hell are you doing with Frank D'Amico's kid?!"

Damon Macready, though more appropriately known as 'Big Daddy', had watched the entire scene in disbelief from the secret hideout; having planted security cameras in the lobby of D'Amico's condominium with the help of his daughter, Mindy. Damon and his daughter had quickly adorned their costumes, ready to track down Dave to make him talk, but the guy came to them instead, which was better.

The man took a step forward; blocking Dave's pathway into the hideout and bent to take a closer look at the dark-haired boy, bruised and bloodied, cradled in Dave's arms.

"Holy shit, is he—Dave, is he dead?!" This was not good; this was  _r_ _eally_  not good! This was insane; as highly unlikely as it was, how in the world did Dave manage to get past all those thugs to get to a member of the D'Amico family and actually  _kill_ him?! Dave was  _no_  murderer in the long years that Damon had known him.

As over half the city did, Damon and Mindy hated the D'Amico family, no, they completely despised them and had spent their lives forging the perfect plan to take down the notorious leader, Frank D'Amico. And then there was Dave. He was kindhearted and wouldn't hurt a fly. He could barely wield those ridiculous batons he carried around for weapons while sporting his Kick-Ass persona, seemingly picking the D'Amico's off one by one and now at his fucking door with the boss'  _son_.

Damon was just about to congratulate the younger man on his first kill before Dave finally spoke up.

"I didn't know where else to go. You have to help us. Chris, he's really hurt."

That's when Damon sensed something strange in his younger friend as Dave held the lifeless boy, almost protectively, and Damon knew right then and there, could see it in his ally's eyes that this wasn't Dave's doing.

Damon peered closer and took a long look at the injured heir; he was just a kid, younger than Dave, Damon assumed, and not too much older than Mindy. It instantly made him think of his daughter and the very close call they had as he looked back at Mindy donned in her Hit Girl outfit. Years ago, they had barely escaped a failed mission with the young girl dying in his arms. He remembered it clearly to this day how she looked: aside from the plaster of blood on her face, she looked almost peaceful, innocent as she slept soundly; completely unconscious and unaware, in her father's arms, just like how Chris looked now. It was one of the scariest days of his life.

Affected by this memory, Big Daddy realized this kid needed serious help.

"Whatever, just get inside, you can explain everything."

\- o - o - o -

Frank didn't bother waiting for a reply; he knew this Dave guy would see the message soon enough. He tucked his son's cell phone into the pocket of his pants before reaching for his own mobile in the other.

Dialing the home number he took down from Dave's profile, Frank was pleased when he heard a voice on the other side.

James had just been nodding off on the couch when the phone began ringing, jolting him out of his reverie. He rubbed at his tired eye's before reaching over to pick up the phone, pressing it up to the side of his face as he mumbled an automatic 'hello' into the receiver.

"Mr. Lizewski? Frank D'Amico here; I'm sure you've heard of me. Sorry to bother you, but it's regarding your son."

"About Dave?" The last of James' grogginess lifted like a veil as he realized who he was speaking to. What had his son done for him to receive a call from Frank D'Amico? He'd heard rumors revolving around that name before; how the man was a crime boss, a drug lord and everything else under the sun that James was against.

Frank's sinister grin grew wider as he heard the expected fear and worry in the other man's voice over the phone. That was perfect; he could always play on fear and get exactly what he wanted.

"Sir, are you aware your son was at my place this afternoon whilst I was at work? Not that I have any problem with that, it's nice to see my Chris making friends for a change; however, it's what your boy did to mine that I cannot overlook. I arrived home early to find your Dave had gotten my son completely drunk, most likely to take advantage of him as he seemed to be doing so when I walked in, beat the hell out of him, and then kidnapped him. I would have stopped him, but your son had him at gunpoint and the last thing I want is for Chris to get shot."

Frank listened intently on the other line as he so effortlessly and effectively told the other father the horrendous false crime Jame's son had committed.

"What? Dave wouldn't—he wouldn't do that. Look, I know my boy, he's harmless. This has to be some sick sort of joke." James denied, not willing to think of his son in such a terrible light.

"Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Lizewksi? I know exactly what I saw. I suggest you give your boy a call immediately and advise him to return my son before any of my men get hold of him." With that, the crime lord hung up the call before the other father could respond. Now really, all he had to do was wait.

James sat there for a moment before deciding that he would get to the bottom of all of this. James dialed his sons number and waited for the boy to answer his call.

\- o - o - o -

"And should I even ask why you're wearing no shirt in  _this_ weather?"

"Uh... that's not important." Dave stated, quickly stepping inside the room as the man moved to allow him entry.

Mindy's hand slipped inside her utility belt that contained all the essentials she carried with her in battle; grenades, knives, her pistols, and extra ammo clips. She withdrew her hand again, recovering one of her favorite blades.

"It isn't even my birthday yet." She said while brandishing the blade in front of herself, the steel glinting menacingly in the light. A smile played on her lips as her eye's zoned in on the vulnerable man in Dave's arms. This was her and Big Daddy's chance to extract some sort of revenge; to get back at Frank D'Amico for driving her mother to kill herself, and for putting her father away in jail for all those years.

"What?" Dave's eyes widened in horror as the other advanced toward him; that thirst for bloodshed in her gaze. "I didn't bring him over here for you to kill!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetie," Damon jumped in between the two before his daughter could get close enough to cause damage, "let's just see what this is all about and  _then_ we'll decide on what to do with him, alright?"

Mindy lowered her knife, giving her father a sullen look before sheathing it. "Fine."

Damon had trained her well as a deadly assassin, but sometimes he felt that he had taken that training too far. Mindy had slaughtered more lives and seen more death than most would ever witness in their entire life and this resulted in what she was today: a ruthless, hardened, cold-blooded killer with no remorse for taking a life.

It was understandable though; her pure hatred for Chris was strictly because of the boys family name and more so for what his father and his men had done.

"I'm starting to think it wasn't such a good idea to come here..." Dave said, glancing between the two superheros, and then to the door as he considered leaving. Hit-Girl's penetrating gaze trained on him, and Dave gulped.

"Here," Damon cleared off some space on an old couch and patted the worn-out cushion with a hand, "lay him here. I'll be right back. Oh and, Mindy, hunnie, please don't do anything stupid." He urged, before heading to a back room to gather what little medical supplies they had available.

Doing as Big Daddy advised, Dave moved Chris to lay carefully on his back against the shabby couch. He then remained awkwardly standing beside his unconscious friend, prepared to leap in front of him should Mindy choose to ignore her fathers words. Instead it appeared the female assassin had resigned herself to collapsing into a near by stool.

"Don't worry, asshole," she remarked; observing the way Dave stood defensively at the broken man's side. "I'm not going to hurt your boyfriend." ' _Yet.'_

Mindy sighed irritably from her perch. She just wanted to run her knife through the D'Amico and ask questions later. Hit-Girl reclined in her seat, her back coming in contact with the desk as she studied Chris without caring if he would survive or not. Though she was hoping it was the earlier, just so she could finish him off herself.

"Pull up a chair, Dave. And don't give me that look, Mindy." Big Daddy called from the other room, full aware of his daughter's sharp glare behind his back.

Dave re-positioned a stood to sit close beside his ailing friend, all the while wary of what Mindy's next move might be.

Damon decided to change out of costume; he wanted his movement as unrestricted as possible while tending to the boy and the mix of stiff leather and hard Kevlar material wasn't exactly comfortable.

Stripping down quickly into a pair of dark cargo pants and a plain top, Big Daddy swiftly collected the supplies and returned with an extra shirt for Dave as well. Damon tossed the shirt over to Dave and didn't watch him tug it over his head before administering first aid on the Chris. A lot of people were out to get the infamous D'Amico family; anyone could have done this. He was very lucky Dave found him when he did.

Settling himself on the couch beside the unconscious young man, Damon softly pushed aside the dark hair matted with sweat and stained a deep crimson to reveal a deep, nasty, cut.

"Jesus…"

He noticed a bruise on the other side of the man's face, but that was nothing that wouldn't heal itself. This cut was what needed to be mended immediately.

Two hands took hold around the opening of Chris' shirt as Big Daddy tore open the expensive material, not wasting time on the buttons. He didn't need anything constricting the boy's breathing.

"Is he hurt anywhere else?" The question being more for himself rather than aimed at Dave as his eyes quickly examined Chris' upper torso. Some bruises and strange marks, he noted, but nothing life-threatening.

"Can you hear me, son? Chris? You're gonna be alright, kid." Damon very gently shook the boy and was relieved when he heard a small groan. "Back away you two, just let me handle this." He ordered to the onlookers as he reached for the bottle of peroxide and some bandages.

He was in no way a medical professional, but had extensive experience dealing with serious injuries; this wasn't even close to what he had seen in his days. But still, who had done this to him? And he had yet to receive an answer as to what the hell  _Dave_ was doing with him.

Dave observed Chris' still form, the perfect picture of concern painted on his facial features. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding at the small sound his friend made. Dave had forgotten about his chair and stood anxiously, a few strides to the side of Big Daddy. His phone blared away in his pocket, but Dave ignored it. All of his attention focused on the younger man.

"You gonna answer your phone?" Mindy asked, legs dangling from her seat as she kicked idly back and forth, leveling her sharp gaze on her ally.

"Uh.. yeah." Dave stuck his hand into his pocket and yanked out the device. He placed it to the side of his face, recognizing his father's voice as he spoke to him from across the line.

"Dave. I just got a call from Frank D'Amico. Want to tell me what's going on? He told me you kidnapped his son... as well as other things."

"Frank D'Amico called you!?" Dave panicked. How did the guy even get his number? Shit, he knew who he was! This was bad, really bad!

"Yes, and you need to start explaining. He made some serious accusations."

"W-well you see, I was only hanging out with Chris before all this started. And Frank hits him dad, I had to get him out of there. So yeah, I kinda did kidnap him. But he's not even a kid, he's an adult and I saved him, his father had a gun up to his head." Dave delivered his explanation as best he could to his dad in hopes the man would believe him. And James did, but that didn't erase the fact that he still abducted a mob boss's son.

Mindy didn't even have to strain her ears to listen as Dave spoke animatedly into the phone; his voice rising as his panic mounted. She learned some interesting insight about the events that transpired at the D'Amico residence earlier that day. _'Someone has daddy issues.'_ She thought, eye's locking onto Chris' unconscious form.

"Just return his son, Dave. I don't want you to get hurt protecting him." James said.

"I can't—look dad. I need to keep him away from Frank, he's insane. He'll kill us when he finds us."

"All the more reason to just give him back." came James' reply.

Dave sighed, he just wasn't getting through to his father. "I'm hanging up now. Sorry, I won't be coming home today. Don't call the police, they can't help. Frank has connections inside the force." He said, ending the call with the flick of his wrist, he held the off button of his phone before pocketing it.

James sat in his chair cupping his face in his hands as his son cut the call short. At least Dave had taken Frank's son out of noble reasons, as opposed to the sick ones the mafia boss presented to him. But what did that matter when there was a chance that he might not have a son anymore, when there was a chance he could be killed.

Damon couldn't help overhearing the entire conversation. His hands slowed as his ears picked up on every word that Dave was mostly shouting; he hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to with the man only a few feet away from him and freaking out.

He re-adjusted his glasses that kept sliding down his nose as he concentrated hard on the task at hand; watching with difficulty as Chris jerked at the sudden sting of the peroxide. "It's alright, buddy, I know it hurts. Gotta do this." He wasn't sure if the boy could actually hear him or not, but it gave him some reassurance.

Damon shook his head to himself as he listened closely while applying a large surgical bandage to the wound and holding it in place.

It wasn't exactly surprising that someone like Frank D'Amico beats his son, but that didn't change him from feeling sorry for Chris; he couldn't imagine laying a hand on Mindy, and she wasn't exactly the most well-behaved kid.

Securing the dressing in place and thankful that blood was no longer seeping through, Damon merely wiped his hands of the blood onto the old pair of cargoes he was wearing before covering Chris with a thick blanket and took a seat next to his young friend; keeping a slight watch out of the corner of his eye on his daughter in case the urge to kill the now-unprotected boy arose.

He sat in awkward silence, unsure of exactly what to say; he didn't want to question him further, Dave was pretty upset right now, but there was the still the issue of what to do with the D'Amico kid.

"You okay?" He simply asked.

At the end of the very distressing conversation he had with his father, Dave was feeling more stressed and helpless than he ever had in his life. "For someone who has the mafia on their ass, sure. I'm fine."

"Alright, alright, stupid question." Well what was he supposed to say? He was a more of 'kill now, mourn later' kind of guy. Damon wasn't used to dealing with, what was it? Emotions?

"Look, Dave, we gotta figure out what to do here" He understood the stress Dave was under, but they couldn't sit around moping about it. The mafia was now after him and he didn't think Dave realized the danger he was truly in.

"I mean, maybe this could really be our chance to take down Frank D'Amico once and for all. Just hear me out, alright?" He could see Dave already becoming defensive about it…and the question was  _why_? Why was he just casually hanging out with the son of the man he swore to kill? He wanted answers and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold in his frustration. "You know, years ago you, no,  _Kick-Ass_ , would have done  _anything_  to take out the D'Amico's; this is your chance! We have his kid for fuck sakes!"

Dave didn't like where the conversation was going at all. His eyes narrowed and he folded his arms in front of himself. His body language spoke volumes about how opposed he was to what Damon was subtly implying. It was alarming to Dave how somebody's life meant so little to his two allies.

"I'm not using Chris to take down Frank D'Amico." He said firmly; unwavering in his decision. He wasn't willing to risk his friendship with Chris. He also couldn't just betray him like that, the boy had already been through so much.

There was also the unresolved feelings he blamed for influencing his suborn behavior. He wasn't going to deny it, he may have been drunk at the time, but Dave was sober now, and he wasn't disgusted by what Chris and he were about to do earlier before Frank interrupted them. And he didn't know what to think about that.

Who knew Dave would grow attached to some D'Amico scum? Nobody could have seen this coming. Mindy was disappointed in him. She had always known Dave to be soft, and kindhearted. In conclusion, he was stupid,  _loyal_ , but stupid. It was one of the man's many faults, as well as one of his most admirable qualities.

" _Mindy_  and I," Damon emphasized his daughter's name to speak for the both of them whether she agreed or not, "promise not to hurt him; I  _did_  just save his damn life, ya know, but if you honestly think that we are not going to take advantage of this whole thing, then you're very mistaken, Dave." Damon's young ally couldn't possibly understand what Chris' family had done to his own. He  _deserved_  his revenge;  _Mindy_ deserved revenge. He had no intention of killing the boy that Dave, for some unexplained and bizarre reason, had come to care for, but Damon wasn't about to just have the mafia boss' son waltz into his place and not use the situation to his benefit in some way or another.

Dave was at first reassured by Damon's pledge not to harm his friend, and then became defensive again as the man went on to say he was going to essentially use Chris. He looked away from the man as he felt the cold sting of betrayal.

Mindy's reaction to her name being used in that context was not an agreeable one; and she frowned bitterly in silent retaliation. If the temptation became too strong for her, she  _would_ slaughter the D'Amico; and there was nothing her father's empty promises could do to hold her from doing that. Still, she was intrigued by what Big Daddy was saying. Maybe it would be better to keep the mob boss' son alive. Her gaze remained glued to the boy as she weighed the pros and cons of letting him live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - Special thanks to Rock n' Fuckin' Roll for betaing this chapter. ^__^ 
> 
> This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He's gonna kill me! He's gonna fuckin' kill me!' Chris thrashed his body around, ignoring the intense throbbing of his head.
> 
> Mindy observed the scene from a safe distance, amused by the boys struggling as he tried to free himself from Damon's grip. "Dave," she began, turning towards her ally, "Want to tell your boy-toy to take it easy?"

Big Daddy watched the defeated look on the young man's face. Christ, Dave was making this a bigger deal than it needed to be. This was not the superhero Kick-Ass that Damon had come to know all these years. This was the perfect plan, anyone could see that, and Dave was being, to put it lightly, a whiny bitch about it all.

"You gotta be honest with me, here. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on with me." Dave responded, his voice guarded. "I just—I really..." He trailed off, words failing him. Dave didn't know how to respond to the man without revealing too much about what happened at Frank's place. Vocalizing it only made it seem all the more real; and Dave was still struggling to understand what it all meant.

Dave's expression relaxed for a fraction of a second, his gaze landing on his now patched up friend. It appeared that even in his sleep, Chris couldn't find peace. He studied the boy's taut expression, his eyes roving over the bandages that adorned his Chris' face. Dave found himself wanting to erase all the bad things that happened to his friend. He wanted to take away all the beatings Chris had endured in his lifetime, as well as the loneliness he felt in the company of his body guards. It was cliche, but it pained him to see Chris when he was hurt.

"You really  _what_ , Dave? We're wasting time here, what is going on with you?" Damon stood abruptly from his chair, hands on his hips in annoyance knowing full well he wasn't going to get an answer from this stubborn kid. "The  _mafia_  is now after you! You have everything here," he pointed to the sleeping boy behind him, "to take them down! Just let us help you."

He was getting nowhere; the guy didn't even seem to be paying attention; the seriousness of this completely absent from Dave's head as he focused on the younger boy across from them.

There was this… _way_  that Dave looked at Chris as he seemed unable to take his eyes off his new friend. Damon could read people like an open book and this 'look' he continued to unintentionally give to the D'Amico boy seemed more than just quick glances of monitoring his condition.

"Oh my god…" The idea hit him hard; sure it was very unlikely, but...

As Damon stared in disbelief at the younger man; maybe it  _wasn't_  as impossible as it seemed. In all these years, he had never known Dave to even show an interest in girls much less have a girlfriend. But  _Chris D'Amico?!_. This whole thing had just gotten much worse.

It wasn't his kind of thing, but he could certainly understand the attraction: the temptation of someone as unattainable as the heir of a filthy rich crime lord was probably very appealing to most.

And if it was just sex, experimenting, a one-night stand, whatever, it wouldn't have been so bad. But it was the obvious feelings for the younger man that Dave tried so desperately to be subtle about, is what really just messed this whole situation up completely.

 _That's_  why he was defensive; so protective towards Chris when he normally wouldn't have been.

"Are you—Dave, are you and D'Amico…" raising his eyebrows suggestively at his friend. He hadn't meant for it to come out so inconsiderately, in fact he really didn't give a damn  _what_  Dave was doing behind closed doors; it was more  _who_  he was doing.

"N-No!" Dave replied too quickly, unable to make eye contact with the man.

Mindy, however, wasn't convinced by Dave's answer. "Oh my god. You're plugging him! Eww."

"Mindy! Please. Can you not just refer to it as 'fucking' like everyone else?" He yelled to his daughter before turning back to Dave to find a wide blush spreading across his face as he stared uncomfortably at the ground.

Mindy rolled her eyes at her father and remained mostly unaffected by his outburst; she could tell just how much pressure Damon was under. She wasn't by any means dense; she realized the situation was a lot more loaded than they both had originally anticipated. Now they had to take Dave's  _feelings_  into consideration  _'God, he is such a sissy.'_  She thought. Of course, she did care about Dave, but it was stupid of the guy to ever get involved with a D'Amico in the first place.

"Uh, look, I'm sorry Dave." Damon knew how confusing this must be for Dave and was beginning to regret his actions from earlier. He dropped back down into his chair and exhaled deeply; not sure of how to handle this.

"You know how impossible it is for the two of you to be together, right? Please tell me you understand this…" The man spoke kindly, trying to make this as easy on Dave as possible. They were running out of time and this needed to be dealt with.

Dave's face felt annoyingly hot, and he tried to ignore his growing embarrassment by staring a hole through the floor; wishing for it to open up and swallow him. The cold, harsh reality of Damon's words left him feeling strangely empty inside. Dave didn't reply, and instead, continued hanging his head in shame.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Dave." Damon tried; finding this to be the most awkward conversation he had ever had in his life. He sure was grateful he never had to go through this with his daughter. The only interest she ever showed in anyone was what their guts might look like after she slashed their stomach.

Mindy's sharp eye's detected movement behind the two engrossed men, and she zeroed in on the form of the bruised boy as he regained consciousness. She could honest to god toss a shuriken in the D'Amico's direction right then, putting an end to his life, as well as the bickering of her two male influences. But she hadn't been given any immediate orders to kill him yet, and she didn't want to temporarily diminish their chances of retaining Frank D'Amico.

Chris slowly opened his eyes, groggy and disorientated; his head pounding so bad that it was affecting his vision and he automatically had to shut them. He instinctively raised a hand to the wounded area, finding it covered with a soft material. A bandage?

He faintly remembered the events of the afternoon; trying to recall much of anything just made his head spin even more. But even without his sight, he had this bad feeling he wasn't in his own place.

He partially listened to the voices around him as best he could due to his condition; one of which sounding very familiar, but he couldn't quite tell who it was as he was more compelled to focus on the throbbing pain in his head than anything else.

"Ugh, fuck…" Chris murmured, as he covered his eyes with a hand; even with them shut the dimly lit bulb above him was enough to make him woozy

It was unclear to him as to where he was or what had even happened, but any fear he had in him had somewhat subsided when he sensed that he wasn't in danger. It seemed wherever and whomever he was with, had taken care of him; a hospital, maybe? Chris turned his head to the side and cracked an eye; seeing he was most  _definitely_  not in a hospital, but what looked to be some sort of dingy basement.

"Where…?" He questioned softly, hoping for anyone to hear him that could possibly give him answers.

Mindy smirked at how weak Chris was acting, taking a small amount of joy in the boys helplessness.

Damon caught Mindy's eye as she seemed to be fixed intently on something behind him. "Mindy? What are you—" Glancing over his shoulder, Damon saw that the boy had somewhat regained consciousness. "Couldn't have said something, could ya?"

Mindy responded with a shake of her head, her eyes twinkling mischievously at her father as he bounded towards the D'Amico heir.

"Can you hear me, Chris? Can you see?" Damon waved a hand in front of his face and the boy nodded slowly; his eyes staring blankly up at the man and he tried to lift his head.

Damon wondered if the kid recognized him; recognized the man his father framed and had locked up many years ago; the man who his father had caused the death to of Mindy's mother and the woman he loved.

A nagging voice inside him told him to just end this boy's life. Make Frank D'Amico feel exactly what he felt, though he highly doubted the man would even care if he ever saw his son again. Anyone that could do something like this to their own child obviously couldn't care less what happened to him. It was his promise to Dave that kept Damon from just slitting his throat right then and there.

He could see the distress in those eyes when it became evident to Chris who was hovering over him. The boy's breathing rapidly quickened at the realization and his eyes darted around the room as if frantically hunting for something to defend himself with. Not that he had much of a chance if the need did arise.

"Calm down, nobody's gonna hurt you." He urged, pressing a hand firmly against the small chest. "Chris, just relax. Lay back down."

Chris fought with what very little strength he could muster at the time, forcing the man to take hold of his wrists to keep him from struggling. He was overexerting himself and Damon didn't want him passing out again.

 _'He's gonna kill me! He's gonna fuckin' kill me!'_  Chris thrashed his body around, ignoring the intense throbbing of his head, but still it was impossible to resist against Damon's strength. It seemed he took no notice of Dave at all; only the dangerous man above him now holding him down. He was going to be killed, he was sure of it.

Mindy observed the scene from a safe distance, amused by the boys struggling as he tried to free himself from Damon's grip. "Dave," she began, turning towards her ally, "Want to tell your boy-toy to take it easy?"

Dave's head rose from the intense staring match with the floor. Hit-Girl's words clicked in his mind and his confusion melted into something more akin to relief. Forgetting his embarrassment, he spun around and eagerly advanced toward the couch. "Chris..." he started hesitantly, "It okay, he's not trying to hurt you."

The familiar voice nearby caught Chris' attention and he cocked his head to the side; his eyes widening in terror.  _'Holy shit they got Dave, too!'_

"Dave! You gotta get outta here!" He yelled, seeing his friend only advancing towards him. "No, don't worry about me, just go!"

Was Dave not aware of just who's presence he was in? Crazy fuckin' McCready and his psycho daughter were among the most infamous of so-called 'superheroes'. For every life they boasted about saving, there were dozens that they willingly admitted to slaughtering; it was like a fucking sport to them. It didn't matter who got in their way. Frank was able to put McCready behind bars, but unfortunately it was only a matter of time before he was out again and now more insane than ever.

"Jeez, kid, relax!" Damon's anger was rising, but his worry that Chris was going to hurt himself more than he already was, was his biggest concern. "Dave! You gotta calm him down! Do something!" He didn't dare take his grip off the crazed boy whose pulse was racing like mad under his fingers.

"Chris, stop!" Dave's words didn't seem to have any effect on the other boy as he continued to struggle. Dave stood anxiously, unsure of what to do in a situation so high-strung with panic it was practically suffocating.

Damon could only hold this whiny kid down for so long before the urge to just knock him the fuck out took over. He figured Dave was probably the only one who could calm Chris down, but even upon hearing his friend's voice, reassuring him that it'll be okay, wasn't enough to stop the out of control D'Amico boy.

"Dave!" he snapped again. "If you don't do something to shut this kid up, I swear I'm going to—"

"I don't know what to do, he's not listening to me!" Dave cried. The next few seconds were a blur. There was more demands from Damon shouting at him to help and an increase in hysterics from Chris. The moment Dave met Chris' petrified gaze all coherent thought left him, he moved forward unthinkingly; his hands gripping his friend's face unceremoniously before crushing their mouths together.

An abrupt silence filled the room at Dave's last resort; breaking only at the sound of a muttered disgust from Hit Girl.

Damon slowly loosened his hold from Chris' wrists, unsure of what else to do with two boys only inches away from him and kissing each other.  _'Not really what I was expecting, but it seemed to work.'_

The blanket that was keeping Chris warm had long since slipped off during his wrestling match with Damon, that of which he was particularly glad for considering he wanted Dave's body as close as possible to his own. The warm, safe, familiar feeling of his former rival was enough to cause him to forget everything even for just a moment.

When Dave wasn't met with any more resistance from Chris, the tension in his body slipped away as all it took to tame the boy was a simple press of lips. The other was kissing him back so insistently, causing the blood to rush to his face as he was well aware of what he was doing in front of his two superhero allies. His embarrassment subsided as those persuasive pair of lips warmed his own, and arms anchored his neck; dragging him flush against the build of his friend.

He suddenly didn't care anymore that they had an audience; shifting to comply with Chris' demand for closeness, he climbed on to the couch and lowered himself against the man, while being mindful not to use his full weight. His nose crinkled at the faint smell of peroxide that invaded his nostrils. Gently cradling his partners face in his hands Dave molded their mouths together.

"O-kay. Excuse me then." Clearly Damon had been forgotten about. "Uh, Mindy, how about you show me that new trick you've been working on with those butterfly knives of yours?" Damon kept his daughter's view blocked from Dave and Chris as best he could as he approached her hastily before wrapping one large arm around her shoulders and hurriedly leading her to another room.

Mindy was too happy to agree with her father. She didn't particularly enjoy watching her friend suck face with the D'Amico boy.  _'Eww. No, this is just wrong.'_  And of course her dad had to say something to make the situation ten times worse.

"Just…clean up after yourselves alright?" Damon pleaded from around the corner before closing the door behind him. Damon couldn't deny the chemistry between the two sworn enemies was almost sickeningly cute. He still didn't like the D'Amico kid (more so because of his father), but he was happy for Dave, and that alone was what made his soon to be final decision far more difficult than it should have been.

\- o - o - o -

Frank watched the hours go by from his office, expecting his son to have been returned to him by now. Did this guy not know who he was dealing with? He had to wonder if the boy's father even took it seriously enough to warn his son.

In truth, it would be all too easy to track down Chris, but the sadistic nature in him took great pleasure in watching his victims squirm in mental and emotional torment.

His phone rang and he glimpsed at the number on the caller ID: Unknown; he allowed it to ring a few times before figuring it best to answer as this person may have information on his son's whereabouts. The caller, however, was the last person he would have expected.

"McCready! What-"

"Shut up and listen to what I have to say, D'Amico, 'cause I'm just gonna cut right to the chase: I know where your son is and if you care to see him again, you'll do  _exactly_  as I say."

There was silence on Frank's end as a sudden rush of panic surged through him; he instantly knew this would not be as easy as he thought. This wasn't just some kidnapper who wanted ransom; this was Damon McCready: one of many men that happened to piss off the D'Amico's and ended up framed for crimes he never committed; now this man had his son. He should have just killed the guy when he had the chance.

" _You're_  blackmailing  _me_? Do you need  _another_  five years in a cold cell before you learn? Or…perhaps your daughter—"

It was starting to become a struggle for Damon to keep his voice from rising as he attempted to negotiate with the mob boss, and at the mention of his daughter…

"Fuck you, D'Amico! You're in  _no_  position to threaten me right now. Let me rephrase this for you: if you care to see Chris  _alive_  again, you will do as I say."

"If you touch one hair on my son—"

Damon's grin grew wide over the phone, hearing the fear in his opponent as the drug lord fought to mask it.

"Oh, don't you worry, Frank; I couldn't possibly do more harm than what  _you_  have done already to him."

An exasperated sigh on the other line; defeated. "…what are your terms, Damon?"

He convinced Frank to meet him at a given location the following evening, promising him he'd have his son. The man was ordered to come alone, though Damon knew he'd have snipers surrounding the place. That was fine; he would too.

Frank D'Amico was now in his grasp and once and for all, they would finally have their vengeance.

After sorting out the details with the crime lord, Damon noticed his daughter's mood had suddenly changed drastically. Mindy could only stare with a look of dread on her face at what her father had just done.

She had listened unhappily during the phone call as her father conversed with the bastard who had caused them so much hurt in the past. She didn't understand why they couldn't just kill D'Amico's son, maybe send a few pictures of his corpse to Frank, or a few body parts (better yet, his head) as a memento of the dead D'Amico heir.

Unfortunately, they had to consider Dave's stupid feelings. She wasn't as adept as her father at reading people and their emotions, but she could tell that it wasn't just a passing infatuation that Dave had for the D'Amico boy. And yeah, it was kind of pathetic, but Mindy didn't want to loose Dave as a friend; she had grown attached to having him around over the years, and she had a feeling that if she did any thing to mess with Chris, that he would probably never talk to her again.

"Mindy, please try to understand. Frank D'Amico is  _not_  somebody we want to mess with."

He knew she was fond of Dave and he was as well; Dave was like a son to him, one of the only people both he and Hit-Girl had ever really trusted. But he couldn't risk his daughter over something that could easily be dealt with between he and D'Amico. Plus, this was their perfect chance to strike and he wasn't going to let that get away.

He continued, not allowing her a chance to speak. There was no changing his mind. He knew in time, she'd understand.

"If he  _ever_  found out his son was here and we didn't tell him, he'd have a hundred of his guys here at once. That's not really the way I want this to go down. Sure, this place is pretty well hidden from most, but the D'Amico's aren't petty criminals we're dealing with."

As well-trained as Mindy was, she was naive and very reckless; in her mind, they were unstoppable and, so far, they had been, but going against the mafia was a  _whole_  different story.

"We could take them." She insisted. It didn't matter to her; a hundred people couldn't stop Hit-Girl or Big Daddy, no one could out wit them, not in skill, speed or intelligence.

"You think it's just so damn easy, you think we're invincible. The sooner you stop thinking that way, the better chance you'll have at surviving. Even if we  _could_  take all his men, there are surely dozens more on-call. Could you imagine the price on our heads that would be with us for the rest of our lives? This is the  _mafia_!"

Mindy gave her father a careless expression that could be translated as 'so what'. The price would be well worth it; they were already wanted criminals as far as she was concerned, what did a bigger bounty for their heads do but increase their infamy? _'I still think we could get away with it.'_

"I don't want to discuss this anymore," Damon said, cutting their argument short. And what was the point anyways? They'd never see eye to eye on this, both knew that, but still he wished she'd understand; he was only trying to protect her.

"Hey, why don't you help me with this AR-17 here?" He reached for the black assault rifle high up on the far wall and laid it down on the large desk in front of him. Taking apart weaponry, observing how it worked, seeing how it could be enhanced; it was one of the ways in which the duo could spend time together as father and daughter and put aside their differences. Plus, it gave them something to do seeing as the main room was rather occupied.

"Yeah," Mindy's mood brightened considerably at the suggestion. She tore at her mask, draping the material over a coat rack before doing the same with her purple synthetic wig. Mindy slipped beside her father to gaze at the project before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, Rock n' Fuckin' Roll for betaing this chapter. 
> 
> This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Smut ahead!

It was nearly impossible for the two to set a rhythm; Dave kissed with such passion, long and thorough, while the younger was desperate and eager, unable to slow down if he wanted to; conquering the other man's mouth with an invading tongue.

Chris could hear his heart pound wildly as he fought for some meaning of control. How a simple kiss could drive a person so mad with need; he couldn't understand. He knew he wanted more, but not sure exactly of  _what_.

Dave's mouth opened automatically to accept the thrilling advances; he melted as that tongue slicked against his own.

Something nudging against Dave's leg caught his attention. Breaking the contact between their faces, his eye's flickered open to peer back into Chris'. "Is that your-" He whispered, his gaze dropped lower, settling on the bulge in the others pants. Dave's breathing became considerably labored; his pupils blown wide.

Chris fought back the nervous laugh that struggled up his throat as he averted his eyes anywhere but into Dave's. "Sorry." He whispered shyly, unsure of himself and at Dave's reaction. But that all changed quickly when his lips were once again claimed with a kiss more fierce and demanding than the first one.

He was throbbing against the uncomfortable confinement of his pants, seeking some sort of release as he ground against an equally hard length pressed between their bodies.

Dave canted forward, meeting the boys unstill hips with his own; the sensation magnified by the kisses they exchanged. It wasn't enough that they were actively grinding against each other; he wanted more. Back at Chris's place they had been interrupted, but this time he wanted to go further. Chris looked like he wanted it too, the way he was shamelessly rubbing himself against his own hardness.

He pushed himself up so he wasn't so much of laying on the boy as he was leaning over him, his hand snaked between their bodies, trailing between Chris' thighs, making his intentions known as he lightly palmed the man's bulge.

Chris gasped as a hot sear of sensation jolted him. Automatically he reached down and covered that hand with his own; pressing heavily upon it as he lifted his hips in response.

They were wrapped around each other, hands roaming wherever they could reach. Hips were pushing back into him and Chris broke the kiss only to whisper his friend's name in one breathless moan.

It was clear what Dave wanted, what they both wanted, but Chris hadn't exactly pictured his first time being on some tacky, old couch that belonged to a man that would sooner kill him than speak two words to him. But as it was, he was just too far lost in pleasure to stop now.

A wave of desire swept over Dave, curling low in his abdomen at the sight of his friend pleasuring himself against his hand. His hips strained forward, his entire being yearning for that boy who moaned his name so delectably. Unable to help himself, he re-initiated another kiss, pressing against those inviting lips and breathing in deeply through his nose as he struggled to contain his excited pants.

"Don't stop." Chris pressed harder against Dave's hand when he noticed some resistance; encouraging his friend as he rocked into his palm. The pressure caused flames along every nerve down his body, his breathing labored and ragged between the lips that once again claimed his own.

Hesitant, he slid his other hand down the length of their bodies, squeezing the other through his jeans as Dave was doing to him; watching every reaction and catching every pleasured gasp as he clumsily followed the other's lead.

Dave inhaled sharply, his breath stuttering out as he exhaled. His heart pounded excitedly in his chest at the timid touches against his dick. The clothes had to go, they were seriously inhibiting their ability to touch each other where it mattered most.

Spurred on by the others enticing responses, Dave fumbled around in the others lap, managing to flick the button open on the mans jeans despite Chris' hand being in the way. He gripped the zipper tab between his thumb and forefinger before pulling it downward.

What was the point in taking it slowly if it was obvious what they both wanted? He needed something hot and heavy; he needed the release that he had been denied hours before.

Dave Littered kisses along the man's jaw, his hand dipped into the man's pants, tracing the outline of his arousal teasingly before wrapping his fingers around his girth and giving him a single pump.

Chris arched into that hand; squeezing his eyes shut and biting down hard on his lip as he choked back a moan. Besides himself, he had never had another touch him like this before and the unimaginable sensation it caused had Chris fighting to control himself in every way he could to keep from calling out.

A hand snaked its way up the loose shirt of McCready's that Dave wore and rested on his hip; fingers slipping just under the waistband of his pants. His other was gripping the side of the couch hard, every muscle in his body tensing in response from the warmth and skill of Dave's teasing fingers. Chris long since abandoned his effort at trying to sort out the confusing sensations of how familiar, and new, all this felt at the same time. It was like touching himself only a hundred times better.

Dave's lips left a moist trail down Chris' face as he tucked his head in the juncture between his lovers throat and shoulder. He licked a slow stripe up the cord in his partners neck, his tongue undulating against the man's skin as the other swallowed thickly while struggling to contain his breathy whimpers. Dave found himself wanting to draw those sounds out of the boy that Chris was trying so hard to suppress. "Don't hold back, I wanna hear you."

His free hand roamed around the exposed chest chest in front of him, fingers brushing passed raised pectorals. The other hand occupying the man's pants moved steadily, stroking Chris' heated prick at a measured pace so as to prolong the experience and to keep the boy from finishing too quickly. It was an odd feeling, touching a cock that wasn't his own. It was only a little surprising how it sent stabs of arousal deep in his gut.

The hand testing the elastic of his boxers caused Dave to groan in anticipation. He ached for Chris to just shove his hand inside of his pants and go exploring, but he didn't want to freak the other out by being acting like he didn't have any patience.

Chris stifled the groan threatening to escape. "We gotta be quiet," denying Dave his request as the McCready duo were in the room just next to them; that was easier said than done of course.

Dave was too far gone to care if his allies heard them or not. He wanted to protest, to tell Chris that it didn't matter, but he was distracted from his thoughts as a wandering hand smoothed across his chest, fingers gliding downwards to the front of his pants; igniting sparks of tingling pleasure as they went.

Chris' hand left goosebumps in its wake as he skimmed his fingers along the waistband of his friend's boxers. Unbuttoning the pants and sliding the zipper down, he slipped his hand inside past the short curls of light hair before grasping the thick member. Dave moaned appreciatively and the kisses on his neck intensified.

It was so weird, unusual to be touching another man like this, but in a strange way it felt so right too, perfect. Chris experimentally squeezed his lover a little harder; the younger's eager desire and curiosity prompted his move, but Chris had never expected the surge of pleasure he felt of touching another in this way.

He knew Dave was taking his time, wanting this to last as long as possible for the both of them, but Chris' need for release was overpowering. The gradual pace of the other stroking him was almost too much endure, each painfully slow glide of Dave's hand only brought him closer to the edge.

"Faster," he ordered, though more a mere whimper than a demand, rocking his hips up to thrust into Dave's grip.

Dave's grip on the boy tightened, he could feel how hard Chris was, and he knew from experience how frustrating it was to be so close, and teased when all you wanted was relief. Having mercy on the man, he quickened his pace, his wrist flicking down and back up again on his partners cock while his own insistent hips shifted forward into Chris' hand.

Slow heat was building inside him, his body trembling with the raw essence of pleasure as Dave stroked him faster and faster. His own hand on Dave slowed as his concentration was now entirely on his own greedy need, a dizzying urgency for release.

He no longer cared who might hear him; it was difficult to even keep trying as each pump of that hand heightened his pleasure and forced him to cry out.

"Ah, fuck, gonna cum." His still hand gripped almost painfully tight around Dave's cock as his body tensed in response to climax, but Chris paid little attention to his friend's comfort. All that mattered was his friend's hand jerking him off, making him cum; the pangs of sharp pleasure igniting every nerve ending in his body. Unintelligible sounds of need were forced from his throat, gasping as the full force of release took his breath and he was coming into his lover's hand in short spurts of warm fluid.

Dave lifted his head from his partners collar bone, grunting at the vice like grip around his poor dick. He pulled away just in time to witness the sight of the Chris' flushed face as he came undone beneath his fingers. The incredibly alluring sounds the other made caused his cock to twitch in his lovers grip; making him painfully aware of his own state of need.

Not wanting to disrupt the others post-coital haze, Dave struggled to even out his erratic breathing as he held himself above his friend, gaze fixed on Chris' debauched appearance. He felt a sick sense of pride knowing that he'd been the one to put that blissful expression on his face. Dave relished in the look the other gave him as Chris' hooded eye's opened to meet his own.

Well, they do say the best thing for a headache is an orgasm and it certainly made Chris forget the pain for a while.

Something Chris had done over a hundred times himself would never compare to how the hand of another felt against him. Deep, shuddering breaths heaved against his chest as he came down from his high. His eyes glazed over, half-parted, staring longingly up at his friend.

He never thought he'd be so comfortable with another person, let alone a supposed enemy; just having this person close to him, holding him, had Chris wondering when this had become more than just physical in his mind.

He pushed the conflicting emotions aside; blaming his innocence and the fact that Dave just happened to be the first person he shared something so intimate with. He chose to accept the fact that Dave would never feel the same way.

"Mmm, your turn," grinning widely, seductively, masking his true feelings as he played his fingers along the shaft of Dave's cock. His free hand snaked around Dave's neck, pulling him closer to where he could fasten his lips against the older boy's neck, tasting the rhythm and pulse of desire surging underneath the hot skin.

Their position with Dave pressed so close to him made it difficult for Chris to really do much with his hand trapped between their bodies. "Is there a spare bedroom or somethin' here?" Plus, he wanted to experience so much more and the small couch made it difficult to do the things he was currently fantasizing about.

Dave pulled away dazedly, "Uh, yeah." He didn't want to get up just yet, he liked having Chris lying pliant beneath him, but he realized that the younger boy was having trouble touching him properly with the limited space on the couch. Reluctantly, Dave climbed off the other, standing up with a hopeful smile playing on his face, beckoning for the other to take his (clean) hand to help him up.

With Dave's help, Chris slowly stood up from the couch, still a tad dizzy from his injury, and allowed himself to be led to the spare bedroom.

Once there, his arms immediately locked around Dave's slender waist and sought out those lips with his own, pulling the larger man close to his body and kicking the door closed behind them.

\- o - o - o -

Damon lifted his eyes from the gun he and Mindy were working on as a sudden thump against the paper-thin walls was heard. "The fuck was that?" He rose from his chair and cautiously approached the door to the living room.

"Just stay there." He told his daughter before slowly pulling the door open and peering out. He noticed the boys missing and instantly panicked with the thought that they had escaped until he saw the door to the guest bedroom closed, which was usually left open unless someone was in it.  _'Well at least they're not using my couch anymore.'_

As much as he didn't care for his young friend banging the son of the man he was planning to kill tomorrow night, at least he knew they wouldn't be going anywhere. May as well let them have their fun now because this time tomorrow Damon could guarantee they would never be seeing each other again.

"They aren't doing it in there are they?" Mindy asked scornfully, unwilling to approach the door to go and check even before her father ordered her not to. "We're gonna need to burn that couch now."

"What? No! No, they are not!" Not wanting to discuss it any longer, especially with his daughter, Damon retreated to the living room.

"The couch is fine, Mindy. We are not burning the god-damn couch."

He beckoned for his daughter to join him from the other room. "Come on. Let's throw on a movie," another bang against the wall, "preferably a loud movie. I highly doubt we'll be getting any sleep tonight."

"What ever you say, but I'm not sitting on it." Mindy declared. She hesitated as her father waved for her to join him, pausing before the arch of the door way before stepping inside the next room.

\- o - o - o -

Chris' hands found the hem of Dave's top and pulled, yanking the over-sized shirt over his friend's head before shrugging off his own loosened shirt from his shoulders. Taking hold of Dave's wrists Chris shoved him hard against the nearest wall, crushing their lips together before the other man could object.

Dave's sinewy arms came to wrap around the man's middle as he overpowered the other in one swift easy move; pushing Chris against the wall instead as he flipped their positions. "We didn't come in here to use the wall." Dave leaned forward to give the other a fleeting kiss, feeling Chris struggle against him playfully, testing his strength.

Chris threaded his fingers between the other man's before closing into fists and raising his arms up above his head, pinned against the wall as he had done to Dave.

"I want you  _now_ ", Chris pleaded, already hard again and just wanting that quick release once more.

Dave's resolve nearly perished as Chris practically begged for him to take him right then and there as he put himself in that compromising position.

He resisted the urge to ravish the boy; that could wait till they were both laying down on the bed. "I want you too, just- wait." Dave's decision wavered again as the man continued pleading. Chris was seriously not making this easy for him.

Chris fought against the other as he found himself being forced backwards to the bed. "What's wrong with right here?" It didn't matter where; against the wall, on the floor, but the bed was too damn far away and Chris couldn't wait any longer.

"We're almost there..." Dave said while stalking his friend, leading him to walk blindly backwards.

The short distance to the bed felt like an eternity to Chris who, if it were up to him, would have just been content to have each other on the floor. He glanced back when he felt his legs hit the bed frame and steadied himself with a hand on the mattress as he fell back towards to the bed. A hand pushed against him, telling him to lie down, which Chris eagerly agreed to; shifting himself to the middle of the bed before kicking off his jeans that had already been previously loosened.

Dave followed quickly behind; both unable to bear even the few seconds of distance between them as they urged into a closeness that made breathing all but impossible. The mattress dipped under Dave's weight as he crawled towards the object of his desire, the old springs beneath creaked in protest with every movement. Weren't Damon and Mindy pretty well off? Well then why didn't they replace these cheap as shit beds? His thoughts grew distant as they were replaced with lusty ones about his friend.

Chris moved to push down Dave's pants, needing to feel that hardness against him with only the thin fabric of their boxers between them.

He reached up to tangle his fingers into the long, shaggy hair, hauling Dave in close for another plunging kiss as he jutted his hips up into the hard, angular body pressed against his.

It was incredible what a single kiss could do to him. He refused to have Dave part with him again as he claimed the other's lips with his own; one hand wounded into his lover's hair, the other clasped around his neck. He could feel some resistance and grunted in protest when Dave pulled away, ending the kiss much too soon for his liking.

"What? Come on, just kiss me," impatient, demanding; controlled by his own selfish desire. His nails forcefully dug into Dave's neck, but the older boy didn't budge and seemed to have something else in mind.

"Wait," Dave's lips brushed against the impatient mans as he spoke. "Let me try something..." He snuck a hand between their bodies, pushing aside the boxers the other wore while he uncovered the source of Chris' need. Dave fished inside his own shorts for his erection before returning to the boy underneath him. His fingers circled around both of their lengths, pressing their shafts together as he stroked them as one.

"Fuck… Dave…" There was no controlling the confused rush of sensations when Chris felt the other's slick member graze his own as both their cocks were pressed together in Dave's hand. His head fell back against the pillow, both hands reaching out for anything to grip onto; finding the sheets beneath them and twisting them in his fists. His eyes shut tightly in full concentration on the sensations that speared through him like fire. He could hardly cry out, only managing rapid, shuttering breaths as he squirmed under the skill of Dave's hand simultaneously working them both.

Dave's fist worked effectively between them, jerking on their dicks steadily as his hips jostled forward instinctively to meet every pump of his hand that highlighted their pleasure. Long fingers fanned out occasionally to disrupt his rhythm, sliding over the sensitive glans of his lovers cock. He swiped a thumb over Chris' head to collect the pre-cum beading at his tip, lubricating his palm, before moving on to do the same to his own cock.

He surveyed the others reactions through slit eyes as his speed increased on their erections. Dave shuddered through his own administrations, the familiar feel of his own hand, combined with foreign one of Chris' length pressing against his shaft was quickly seducing him to the cusp of his orgasm.

A light flush shaded Chris' pale skin. Head tossed back against the pillow, hips bucking up into Dave's touch; each stroke fetched a ragged moan from the younger boy. He gasped as a thumb smoothed over the head of his cock, circling the highly sensitive area. The slight roughness of Dave's palm combined with the hard flesh rubbing against his own was already drawing a second climax near.

Chris' eyes opened, catching Dave watching him with dark, burning intensity. He gazed back at him, an equally possessive and hungry look in his eyes before curving a hand around his neck and pulling Dave down into a kiss; teasing out his lover's tongue to capture it in his own mouth.

"Slow down," he wanted to say, heat rising in him as Dave's movement began to quicken. But the warning he tried to articulate came out as nothing more than a soft whisper between their lips. His hand reached down to cover his friend's; willing the other to both slow down and speed up, wanting this to last, but unable to hold on any further.

Perspiration gathered on his Dave's from the effort of his pumping fist as he concentrated solely on pleasuring them both, the muscles in his arm flexing lightly with every movement. The wanton sounds his lover made shot straight down towards his cock, fueling his hand to move at a faster pace over the heated flesh of their lengths. Chris' expression reflected the want Dave felt, and he sank down, caressing the others soft lips as demanding hands pulled at him roughly in the younger man's urgency.

"Shit, so close-" He said, his voice rising temperature of their moving bodies fed the inferno growing in his abdomen, the coil in his stomach tightening as the sensations pooling in his crotch became too much. Dave gasped into his partners mouth, his eye's pinched closed as he stroked them both frantically, spilling between his fingers.

Holding back was useless by this point, Chris decided. Unable to obey the need to prolong this as a more savage urge took over. They had the rest of the night to explore each other further, or, as Chris hoped, much longer than that.

He held tightly onto Dave when he heard those words drawn from his lips as a shuddering pleasure claimed the body in his arms. Staring up at his lover's face he almost forgot his own pleasure for a brief second in his eagerness to savor Dave's; he had never seen or felt anything more beautiful and sexy and perfect in his entire life. Dave's cock pulsating against his, wetness flowing down both their lengths; it was enough to set him off as he immediately followed his lover, a cry tearing from his throat as he came, back arching into the sensation, releasing himself into the white tide of a piercing climax.

Smirking slightly at the feel of the boys release coating his hand, Dave felt achievement in being able to push Chris over the edge for the second time that night. His hand slackened on their softening members as his breath beat across the others pink skin, panting lightly into the man's neck as he rode out the remainder of his orgasmic bliss with his lover.

He caught himself just as he was about to slump forward, and instead dropped down beside Chris' form. Missing the others natural heat, Dave first wiped his hand off onto the soiled bed sheets before pulling his partner to him. Chris curled up against him, pillowing his head on the strong chest and feeling the distant thrumming of his heartbeat.

An obviously sated Chris sighed, his breathing slowing back into normal rhythm; dazed and utterly spent from his second orgasm that night. He lifted his head to press his mouth against Dave's neck, moving over the slowing pulse, tasting the heated, salty skin sweet against his lips.

Depleted of all his previous energy, Dave's movements were sluggish as he slid his hand along the expanse of Chris' back, tracing lazy patterns over his skin. The day's tiring events were quickly catching up to him, rendering his body exhausted. His eyelids drooped as he could hardly commit to holding them open anymore. Dave's arm made a smooth transition from rubbing the man's back, to draping over his shoulder as he embraced him loosely. "I think I'm going to fall asleep." Dave warned.

Chris wasn't tired. Well, his body sure was, but his mind was going a million miles a second; thus rendering sleep impossible.

"Yeah, me too." He lied, nestling closer to Dave. He could spend an eternity wrapped in Dave's arms. Nobody had ever held him like this or made him feel this way; the only physical contact he had ever really known was at the hands of his father and _that_  was certainly nothing like this. A strange and elusive longing stung in his chest as he laid awake listening to the soft heartbeat and wishing that he could stay like this forever.

It was a minimal distance between love and lust, and having never felt either before, Chris settled on the latter; the easier route, he figured. Or was this what they called love at first sight? The inability to fall asleep without that other person running through your mind a million times first; the obsessive need to have them close.

 _'Wonder who else he's been with and how often…'_  a stinging hint of jealousy, expected, sure, but they hadn't even gone all the way yet. If he was feeling this way now, what did he expect to feel after they made love? He promised himself he wouldn't lose his head over this next time. Because there would be a next time. There had to be. And besides, this was just bragging rights for Dave that he hooked up with the son of notorious Frank D'Amico so why should he feel any differently too?

After a while, fatigue claimed precedence over his troubled mind, coaxing him into heavy sleep as he nuzzled into his lover, throwing an arm over his body, holding tighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Smut ahead!

Dave slept long into the morning with his lover nestled in his side. Their sleep undisturbed by the first warm rays of sunlight. The windows had long since been boarded up, not allowing for even the tiniest sliver of light to peak through. Damon and Mindy were nothing if not thorough, and they took their base seriously, taking extra precautions by reinforcing the place from the inside out, while at the same time making it appear abandoned to any passers by.

Dave pressed into the mattress with his feet as he stretched, bunching up the bedding while he worked the kinks out his his arms and legs. Bleary eye's opened, which Dave cast downwards to regard the weight resting on his chest.

It was unusual for Chris to sleep past dawn; normally an early riser due to being forced awake every day before 7AM, but for the first time in his life he had been able to sleep soundly.

Movement underneath him brought him out of his slumber, forgetting where he was for a quick moment before becoming aware of hot skin against his cheek and the coarseness of hair against his palm where it rested on a broad chest. Chris yawned deeply; stretching his body across the one below, dark eyes slowly opening. He sleepily pressed a kiss against Dave's skin.

"You up?" He murmured, refusing to lift his head from his lover's body, never wanting to leave his arms.

Dave smiled affectionately, running his fingers through Chris' mused hair. "Yeah."

To think they reunited only a few days ago and just recently became friends before turning into what they were now, which Dave didn't exactly have a word for. The seriousness of that could wait though, Dave was perfectly content with what they had going now.

Chris caught Dave's wandering hand in his and intertwined his fingers with Dave's; sucking in the man's index finger, before nipping down playfully, tasting the essence of the both of them from the previous night.

Dave watched, entranced by Chris as he shifted up onto his free arm and rested his head against the palm of his hand, gazing down at his lover- friend- whatever with that prefect and dazzling smile.

Was it just him, or was Chris in general becoming more perfect in his eye's? And Dave wasn't just thinking about how much the guy turned him on. He could actually see himself never getting bored of the man's company. They had more in common than any of his previous girlfriends, and the connection he felt with those girls couldn't even compare to the one he shared with Chris. It was strange, and it left Dave feeling a little more than conflicted. He couldn't in good conscious say he's straight after sleeping with another guy. Did that mean he was bi? Dave's inner turmoil over his sexuality raged on and dominated his thoughts.

In high school he had decided that he was definitely not gay; despite what everyone believed. But here he was, practically naked and in bed with another man who made him feel a whirlwind of emotions, the day after they had just participated in one of the most amazing and terrifying nights of his life.

Chris wasn't sure what he saw in Dave's blue eyes as he subtly searched his face, demanding answers to questions he was too terrified to ask.

"I, uh…"  _'what?'_ , his gaze found the bed as he tried to come up with the right words.

_'I fucking love you. I don't care how wrong this is. I fucking love you so much and even the thought of you leaving me would just…'_

"I had a really great time last night." He planted a quick kiss to those lips before he ended up saying the wrong thing, exactly what was on his mind this very moment. The last thing he ever wanted was to scare Dave away and if hiding his true feelings was the only way to keep him, so be it.

Dave was unable to fully enjoy the sensation of Chris' lips caressing his skin, too engrossed on the thoughts that plagued him. He didn't know if he would be able to keep his questions to himself for very long, he wanted Chris' opinion, and to see if he was experiencing the same confusing feelings he was.

Something was on Dave's mind; Chris could feel it in his kiss. There was hesitance, coldness. He had kissed the man more than enough times by now to be able to decipher somewhat of how Dave was feeling and this wasn't like anything he had felt during their short time together.

_'He's having second thoughts. I knew it. I FUCKING knew it.'_

Chris pulled back, now unsure of what to do. What had he done to have Dave suddenly become so distant towards him? And what could he do to fix that? He would do anything.

It hurt being alone with the one he wanted who clearly did not want him back. It hurt more than any physical pain he had ever experienced and if this was what it felt like to be in love, then Chris wanted no part of it. He wasn't an idiot; even with his lack of experience in relationships Chris knew when he was being used. And what a coincidence for Dave to start acting weird like this after he got what he wanted from the younger the night before.

"Ummm, are you okay…?" Chris started to ask, but a knock at the door had him startled from his tortured thoughts.

"You guys up yet? And no, not in that way." One knock and Damon was in the room a second later. The boys had been too caught up in to each other the previous night to lock the door behind them. Damon was thankful that the boys were, at the very least, still in their boxers. Chris was propped up on his arm with his back towards Damon and he couldn't help noticing the fair skin littered with faint, but still visible, scars that he only wished were from Dave clawing at him during their night of passion. But he knew. And the tiny bit of conscience that he did possess, begging him to just forget this entire plan of his, was destroying him.

One didn't have to agree with Dave and Chris' new-found love of one another to see how perfect they were together. Something they barely seemed to realize themselves. Damon had only had them a day at his place now and saw them about a quarter of that time and still he could see the difference in his friend when he was around Chris. He smiled more; seemed more confident, sure of himself. There was a look of happiness and certainty reflected in those once shy, blue eyes. He liked this new Dave and truly wanted nothing more than to just call this whole thing off.  _'Sorry, Frank. Your son's in love with Kick-Ass and there ain't nothin' you can do about it.'_

Yeah, that'd go down  _real_  well.

Damon pushed these thoughts aside, refusing to allow compassion to cloud his final decision.

"Lunch is ready," offering a smile, "you two slept right through the morning. Thought I'd come check on ya. Make sure you're still alive."

"Ok can you go?" Dave said testily. He had just been about to have a serious talk with Chris before Damon waltzed right in. The man's intrusion was  _very_  unwanted. Dave felt his face heat up as his mentor began speaking conversationally as if he weren't in bed with another guy. "We'll be out soon.. just let us get dressed."

Damon had expected some sort of reaction from Dave who he knew was easily embarrassed over anything and  _everything_ , but this sudden change in him was very strange. "Hey, Dave, chill alright? Big deal, you're in bed together. Nothin' I haven't seen before." Having done a few missions in the past that could last for months at a time and in remote locations with other superheroes, Damon had seen everything. They slept where they could, when they could, and with whomever they could when the need arose. He'd certainly walked in on worse than this.

"Is he always this bitchy in the morning?" Damon's question was directed at Chris who kept his back to him, no acknowledgement whatsoever to the man, "Whoa, you're both in a mood today, huh?" Damon furrowed his eyebrows at the odd tension in the room. _'Must just not be morning people.'_

Damon winked at the annoyed expression on Dave's face before turning to leave to give them some privacy; he figured he'd embarrassed the hell out of his friend enough and left the room to continue with preparing lunch, snickering on his way out.

As soon as the door closed, Chris was instantly out of the bed retrieving his shirt from the floor and searching around for where he'd thrown his pants.

"We should go," was all he had to say to Dave, avoiding all eye contact with the older boy as he dropped to the edge of the bed and pulled on his clothes.

Dave was accustomed Chris clinging to him, so it came as a surprise to him that he would suddenly insist on putting some distance between them.  _'Maybe he's just really hungry?'_  Yeah right, Dave could only be so lucky. _'Did Damon's little stunt piss him off that much?'_  No, that couldn't be it either, Chris had a sullen look on his face even before they were interrupted.

Dave stared at Chris as he dressed with his back to him, watching for a short period of time before wising up and following the others example; climbing out of bed as he began rounding up his clothes strewn across the floor. He approached the man after slipping on his jeans, worry etched in his features. "Hey, is there something wrong?"

He could feel Dave's eyes fixed on him as he pulled on his jeans, but resisted the urge to look back. Chris couldn't look at him right now. He wasn't used to the rush of emotions that overtook him so unexpectedly in the past day and he wasn't quite sure how to deal with the intense feelings that he had for another person. Part of him wanted to end this-whatever the hell it was that they had; take the easy way out, while the other part of him wanted to seize Dave in his arms and just never let go. Why was it so easy to fall in love, but walking away was so difficult?

The minutes that passed in mutual silence were long and uncomfortable. Chris lifted his eyes from the shirt that he was fidgeting with between his fingers. "I-no, I just-I'm sorry. It's just that I don't really have much experience when it comes to this kind of thing. You're just acting different than usual and I immediately thought I did something wrong. Even the way you're looking at me now is just…different." He wished he could read what was behind that look Dave was giving him.

"Sorry that I'm acting weird. I don't have a lot of experience either, with others guys that is... so this is all new for me..." Dave admitted, his eye's drifting away from the man's to stare at the floor.

'Wait, Dave's not gay...? But at school-everyone thought-I thought…' The revelation sparked a confusion in Chris that he kept hidden.

"Alright, but at least you've been in relationships." Chris felt hopeless next to Dave. He wanted to be everything the man needed and more, he just didn't know how.

Dave's gaze lifted to meet Chris' eye's as he neared the end of his short speech. "I don't want us to be awkward around each other... and saying this probably won't help but I really like you.."

There was sincerity in the way Dave spoke to him, everything he confessed and after hearing those last few words, before Chris knew what he was doing, he was pulling Dave down into a kiss; long and slow and sweet. Dave liked him. That was all Chris needed to hear. Anything more they needed to say to each other proven through the deep, unspoken bond between them.

It was so passionate and ungoverned by lust; there was no claiming, but instead a shared synchronization of caressing lips. He felt he could hear Chris' answer in the way he brushed their mouths together with so much tender care. Dave's hands came up to cup the younger mans jaw as he responded with equal ardency. He'd never kissed someone like this before, nor had he ever been kissed like this; like he was the only thing that mattered in that moment. The world faded around him into background noise and it was just them left standing there.

Chris dipped head to down to press his lips against the hands that caressed his face while his own hands wandered up Dave's back, locking them in a tight embrace that warmed their bodies against each other.

Without warning, Chris pulled his lover down on top of him; the warmth and the pleasure of holding Dave close seemed to gather over his heart, easing away all former doubt and resistance. Both boys breathing hard when Chris pulled away to speak, "We're never gonna get out of this room, are we?"

Dave's breath came out in short pants as his mouth quirked into a smile at his partners question. He moved to nuzzle the man's neck, his lips grazing Chris' skin before answering, "Do you want to leave?"

"Mmm, you know I don't," hands searched up the broad shoulders and tangled in Dave's hair, "wanna stay here with you, but-" Chris let out a faint moan as Dave pressed small kisses on his neck. Dark eyes fell shut, savoring every excruciatingly soft touch of those lips, shivers stirring across the planes of bare skin.

A slowly building heat tightened in his groin, but he tried to ignore it, knowing they could be caught at any moment by Damon bursting in unannounced. "We can't right now…" he whispered, unconvincing and now completely out of breath, his grip tightening in Dave's hair.

Dave's smile widened against Chris' neck as it was apparent the man was enjoying what he was doing to him and that he didn't want him to stop. Why else would he pull on his hair like that? Dave noted how sensitive the younger boy was under his touch, and that his skin erupted in shivers with every gentle brush of his lips. He liked that he could wind Chris up without even really trying, it encouraged him to keep on pushing for more.

"I wonder how fast I can make you come..." He whispered, teasingly soft. He worried the sensitive flesh of his ear between alluring lips before kissing a line down his neck. His hands wandered lazily down the expanse of the small naked chest beneath his, feeling the man's heartbeat as it seemed quicken under his palm. His hands paused in their journey at the start of his friends jeans before sliding over the denim material to access the button and zipper as he unfastened them. Dave touched the man lightly through his boxers before slipping inside to fondle him directly.

Suddenly, it didn't matter to Chris anymore if Damon came barging through that door or not; aside from the ravishing kisses placed along his neck, the hands that explored him, moved on him, Dave's words alone were enough to coax him into climax if Chris hadn't been internally fighting with himself to hold back.

"I'm about to right now if you don't hurry the hell up." Anticipation flared in his eyes and he groaned deep in his chest, straining to hold back his release; Dave was barely touching him and he was ready to explode.

Dave nosed Chris' skin a few more times before breathing a laugh at the demanding tone Chris used. "I don't have to get you off, you know." Dave pointed out as he pulled away from his neck to deliver him a impish look.

"You don't have to, but you  _will_." Chris shot back a look of his own, bold and demanding, tightening his hold in the back of Dave's hair, reminding him who happened to be in charge here. Dave certainly brought out a different, 'unique' side of Chris that surprised even himself, but he liked it.

Dave clearly seemed to have little issue complying; caressing down his chest with soft lips, his mouth cruising close to the wild heartbeat that battered Chris' ribs. No part of the boy's upper body was forgotten with that skilled mouth and he could only anticipate how those lips were going to feel wrapped around his cock.

Chris shifted himself to allow for his jeans to be removed and propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at the delicious sight of the older boy on his knees; that sultry, rising thrill in his eyes, more than willing to please his young, inexperienced lover.

Dave never imagined that he would be doing something like this with another man before, and he didn't really know how to begin, but he wasn't ready to disappoint his lover. There was also an underlying attraction to it all, and Dave was undeniably aroused by it, however this wasn't about his own pleasure; it was about Chris'.

Chris had forgotten this wasn't exactly something Dave did on a daily basis and was just as new to it as he was. In a way, it eased that last bit of tension and worry that Chris was still holding on to and allowed him to just let go and completely relax with this person.

He sat up the rest of the way, legs hanging over the edge of the bed as Dave's fingers tucked underneath the waistband of his boxers and slid the material down his legs, leaving him completely exposed and having no sense of doubt or fear or uncertainty whatsoever, though probably mostly due to how insanely horny he was.

Dave's hands grasped Chris' bare thighs, rough and lacking any sort of grace as they slid up to his aching member. He was little hesitant at first because he remembered that they had been frotting against each other just the other day and the idea of tasting himself didn't really appeal to him.

"Come on…" Chris raked his fingers through the sandy blonde hair, taking a tight hold and pushing his lover's head forward, yearning for something he had yet to experience, but craving it all the same.

He didn't have to wait long. His head fell limply to the side as a warm and very proficient tongue glided up his aroused length. Obviously that mouth had had previous experience, if only with women. As much as he despised the thought of Dave being with anyone else, Chris was also damn near thankful for it.

Dave parted his lips, mindful of his teeth as he took Chris into his mouth, suckling gently on the head. His eye's flickered back upward as he searched for some confirmation that he was doing this right.

"Ohhh, fuck…" Chris moaned weakly, his head dropping forward. Chris wanted to close his eyes to concentrate on his own sensations, but found he couldn't tear his eyes away from Dave's face as his cock was taken between those tight lips.

It was incredibly intimate to be watched like that, to have Chris' eye's on his face as he stared back up at him in return. With his new found confidence, Dave took him deeper, his teeth lightly grazing his length while never taking his gaze off the man. He managed a few more inches before gagging as he pulled away again. Ok, so it was harder than it looked. So much for trying to look hot.

He decided to try again, this time at a much slower pace. He was still only able to fit a tiny portion of him between his lips. His hand made up for what he couldn't fit in his mouth; forming a ring with his index finger and thumb as he stroked Chris in time with his head which bobbed shallowly on his dick. Dave's tongue swirled along his tip, teasing the edge of his head before tracing back up to dip into the slit.

His hand that wasn't circling Chris' erection was placed on the younger boy's waist as he held down his hips to keep him from possibly busting his nose if he were to thrust into his face without abandon; Dave had no doubt in his mind that all the blood would kill the mood. He didn't really know if it was possible in the first place to break ones nose while doing something like this, but you can never be too careful. Especially when Chris handled his hair so roughly.

Dave kept reminding himself to breath through his nose, and like the newb he was he continued to forget and was forced to pull of Chris' erection as he filled his lungs full of air before taking him back into his mouth. He savored every reaction his lover made, drank in every moan and twitch with his eye's.

"You're fucking amazing." Chris encouraged, brushing the back of his free hand against his friend's cheek, before finding himself needing to grip the edge of the bed.

Neither one of them had experience with this, but what Dave lacked in skill, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

Chris' cock swelled under Dave's slow ministrations and he attempted to thrust himself into his lover's mouth, but found his hips securely held down. "Dave-" he began, sounding desperate then choked off the rest of his sentence. "Ah, fuck," he swore helplessly, his hands curling tighter into fists in the dirty blonde hair.

Chris forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching as Dave's enthusiastic tongue flicked over the head of his member, dipping into the slit. Lips circled and tightened around the tip, causing his hips to involuntarily jerk in Dave's firm grasp. His head fell back, impossible to focus on anything but pure pleasure. Besides, he was close already. Really close. He felt another flush of heat every time he reminded himself that it was Dave down there sucking his dick, and that was pushing him close to the edge; the warmth, the stroking tongue, the tiny gasps for breath, the slow pumping motion of his lover's hand that was quickening, the totality of how incredible this felt.

The rhythm was very much off between Dave's mouth and his hand, but Chris couldn't care less. It hadn't taken much to get him to the point of fighting the urge to thrust himself down the man's throat. "F-Fuck-" he growled, fisting his fingers in the slightly sweat-damp strands of Dave's tangled hair, trying to pull him farther down his length.

Whether Dave agreed or not, Chris wasn't allowing him to pull away and held tightly, ignoring any likely sounds of discomfort from his lover. Not that he'd hear the protests anyways; his heart pounding wildly in his ears and he earlier abandoned any attempt to stifle his fierce moans of pleasures. Fuck it if anyone walked in.

"Ah, god, Dave. Don't stop…" he begged; chin dropping against his chest, legs trembling, his body jerking helplessly, "Gonna c-cum-" a last warning before Chris was pouring out into Dave's mouth; shuddering violently and collapsing forward against his lover, his breathing fitful against the other's shoulder as he rode out his orgasm in sheer ecstasy.

Dave shouldn't have been surprised that Chris was strong while in the throes of passion, still, it caught him off guard entirely when the man's hands refused to let go of his hair. His nerve endings may have been messed up but it hurt all the same. Pushing at the man's hips, trying to urge him to ease up, but either Chris didn't get his message, or he was too lost in his pleasure to care as he continued to tug feverishly at the strands.

He could try to pull away and risk losing chunks of his hair, which Dave wasn't exactly keen on, so he really only had one option. Swallowing the bitter liquid that filled his mouth, Dave's hair was finally released, he pulled away to cough into his fist before taking heaving breaths to replenish his cut off air supply, some excess cum dribbling from the corner of his lips.

"Holy fuck," Chris muttered inaudible into Dave's shoulder. He felt his legs jerk and shake, his whole boy quivering from the aftershock as he hung limply in Dave's arms. Never had he felt something so intense in his life; yeah, this was something he could get use to every day.

His orgasm had subsided into a warmth that wore over his entire body and he sighed deeply, eventually bringing his eyes to meet Dave's below him and he brushed the sweat-slicked hair from the older boy's face. Remnants of himself slicked his lover's lips and Chris swept the pad of his thumb over Dave's mouth. "You look so freakin' sexy right now." Actually, the guy looked really fucking pissed, and Chris knew. Oh, he knew exactly what he did, but it's not like he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will be taking a permanent hiatus. I would love to continue writing however, my rp partner is busy and can't find the time to respond. And seeing as she contributes more than 1/2 of the story, *coughs* and the entire plot *coughs again*, this story just wouldn't be the same without her. Sorry readers!

Dave's eye brows slanted slightly downwards, his mouth set in a firm line. His frown deepened as Chris went on to comment his sloppy appearance. Dave didn't feel sexy; his jaw was still a bit sore from their previous activities, and the brief period he was asphyxiated while Chris held him down had immediately killed the boner that may have been forming in his pants.

"Hey," Chris gripped both sides of Dave's head and pulled him up into a kiss, tasting himself on his friend's lips, "I'm sorry, alright? It wasn't exactly easy to stop. I'm sure you'd know."

Dave's expression softened; the kiss helping ease away much of his annoyance. It was almost too easy for Chris to make him forget that he was angry with him in the first place. "You were really loud." he said smugly.

Chris smirked when he realized Dave wasn't too angry with him and replied, "Well, what'd you expect?" Chris didn't doubt he was probably heard by the McCready's, and any innocent bystander that happened to be walking by the building for that matter, but he was much too sated to care.

Even though it was going to be really embarrassing when they got out of this room, it was totally worth it. Dave just knew he was in for more teasing from his allies that were on the other side of the wall, and who had more than likely heard the whole thing. He would have done it all over again just to hear Chris moan like that once more.

"It seems like you have a thing for pulling my hair. Which was kinda hot at first, but now it just hurts." Dave admitted, rubbing the back of his sore head.

"I know, and I said I'm sorry," Chris playfully nipped at Dave's bottom lip and could feel him instantly easing up. He knew Dave couldn't resist him; then again, the same went for Chris.

"I might have to tie your hands together if you keep that up." Dave added teasingly, gripping the frame of the bed as he lifted himself off the ground, motioning for the other to follow his lead.

Chris took the opportunity to attempt to lighten the mood at Dave's 'warning', "but if you really feel the need to tie my hands back…" The thought was certainly intriguing and he put his wrists out together in front of him to show he was more than willing to go through with his friend's little threat.

"You'd really let me do that? Awesome," was all he could think to say. Though he was more flattered that the man trusted him enough to let him do something like that than the actual prospect of tying his friend's hands together.

"Sure, why not? Sounds like fun." How easy it was for Chris to concur; there was a slow and developing unspoken trust towards his new lover, something Chris had never given to anyone, though there was still a tinge of nervousness in his response.

Dave gazed at the man as he was unable to take his eye's off the distraction before him. He'd noticed the marks on his body before but he hadn't really gotten a decent look until now. The little imperfections marring his skin had something inside his chest constricting at the sight; he had a pretty good idea where those came from. Yeah, he definitely wouldn't let Chris go back to living with that bastard.

Chris pushed himself up from the bed, shedding the boxers and jeans that had pooled at his ankles. Blushing, aware he was the only one completely naked right now, he resisted the urge to cover himself up. "Come here." He pulled the taller boy close to him by the waist, subtly using Dave's body as a cover. He was sure Dave had noticed the faded bruises and scares all over him, but, obviously, Chris wasn't exactly concerned earlier. What he liked about Dave was he never seemed to question him; completely accepted him flaws and all. Though who was he fooling? It took longer than a day to truly know someone and he realized he still needed to keep his usual guard up. He could feel Dave's eyes scanning his body and knew what the other was thinking even though he showed no emotion to it.

"Stop looking at me like that." He pleaded, more harshly than necessary, but it was difficult to have another person see him like this. He was constantly questioning himself as to what the hell was on Dave's mind; the guy was so damn hard to read.

"Sorry. I'm just not used to seing another guy naked like this." He said, covering up the real reason he had been staring at the younger man. Dave could see why Chris was becoming so defensive about it, he just hoped that he would be able to relax easier around him in the future.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to believe that." Chris was still shocked that, when it came to men, he was Dave's first. Even in his short two years at Millard Fillmore High, he had heard the rumor circulating around the school and, to be honest, had believed it himself. Well, it was better this way anyways; they'd both be just as awkward when the time came to take this further.

"Not you too."  _'Does everyone think I'm gay?'_  "I guess It doesn't exactly help my defense now that I'm doing this with you." Besides, it didn't matter if he was really gay or not. All he needed to know was that he liked Chris and how natural it felt being with him.

Chris shrugged, "Not really a big deal is it? I mean, my parents would kill me if they knew, but I've never quite understood why." Growing up as sheltered as he was, Chris was only taught one-sided on most things and had nothing else to go on. His parents' opinions on such things were all he ever really knew and with that being the case, he expected being with another guy to feel wrong and a lot weirder than it did. But it wasn't wrong and it didn't feel weird; in fact, being with Dave seemed perfectly natural.

"Well, no. I think your parents might just be homophobic." Dave replied. He was sure that he was in a load of trouble for stealing Chris from them as well.

"We should probably clean our selves off a little before we head out of here." Dave pointed towards the bathroom conveniently located to the right of the room. Showering didn't seem like such a bad idea, and without a box of tissues handy, it seemed kinda necessary.

The suggestion of a shower didn't seem so bad, though Chris knew exactly where this would be leading to. "You really think that's a good idea right now?" Course it wasn't; would probably be smarter to shower separately, but who were they kidding? Lunch could wait and so could the damn Macready's.

Dave smiled, his breath coming out fast through his nose as a hint of a laugh rattled his voice, "It probably isn't the smartest idea." He gently took hold of one of the wrists that circled his waist and freed himself from Chris' embrace so he could walk unhindered, not giving the man any other option but to follow him.

"Then why are you dragging me towards the bathroom right now?" Chris pulled on his wrist, playfully resisting though unable to do much against Dave's force.

"If you can keep your hands to yourself we might actually be able to make it through this shower with out any messing around."

"Ha, me? You've been the bad influence this whole time and you know it."

Dave chuckled again at Chris' response. "You were the first one to kiss me, remember? And at that time I was drunk. I think you were kinda taking advantage. Ever heard of consent?" He teased lightly, releasing the other's wrist.

"Nope. Doesn't count," he argued, waiting for Dave to close the door and turn to him so he could start on the other's jeans. "I'm younger and less experienced. Makes it okay. Uh, somehow." smirking at his own shitty reasoning as he toyed with the button on Dave's pants.

Dave stifled his humor as Chris muttered some petty excuse that he appeared to be quite proud of to have come up with. The guy was seriously funny even without trying; he was cute when he did that. "I bet you have an answer to everything."

Chris worked his friend's jeans loose, pushing them down long legs before pressing his hand against the unmistakable bulge forming behind Dave's boxers. "You're right. I do have an answer to everything. So before you have to ask, yes, I think you're probably going to have to tie my hands," Chris giggled, giving him a squeeze through the thin material, "'cause I can't seem to keep them off of you."

"Shit," Dave cursed, half-groaned as the hand gave him another squeez. "Let's get into the shower first."

"Wait. Lemme just take this off," Chris indicated towards the now completely blood-soaked bandage, "I mean I'm sure it's fine now."

Dave watched as the other as he turned around, giving him a good view of his backside, not that Dave was checking him out or anything. That would be disrespectful... or something since he was injured and currently attending to his bandaged face.

Chris leant over the edge of the sink to get a good look at his reflection. "Ah," he winced slightly as he slowly peeled off the gauze. Chris stared into the mirror; his other bruises fading, but this previous gash on the side of his forehead had definitely left a mark. Normally, his dad took extra care to not mark his face; Chris smirked, 'Must've pissed him off pretty good.' Chris tried to cover it as best he could with his hair; thought didn't much care too much if it showed. Dave seemed to accept him no matter.

He turned back towards his friend, "Alright, let's go. Before we have Macready bothering us again." He squatted down to slip Dave's boxers and pants from his ankles.

"You don't have to-" Dave began, stopping when he realized the position the other was putting himself in, and was more than turned on by the sight of Chris nearly on his knees in front of him. What he wouldn't give to have his mouth on his- Chris rose once again, but there was no disappointment in Dave's eye's as he gazed back hungrily at him. Unable to resist he knelt forward to crush their lips together.

Chris closed his eyes, letting himself be kissed in bewildered passivity, keeping still under the gentle caress of a warm mouth brushing his own, moving against his lips.

The chilly air of the bathroom did little to cool his body that was rapidly heating up. Chris' tongue delved deep into his friend's mouth, pushing past lips that eagerly seemed to accept the warm muscle. His hands wandered up Dave's back, holding tight, pressing himself close to the other.

"So much for a quick shower." Chris mumbled between brisk breaths.

The warmth from their kisses blossomed heat in his groin, encouraging Dave's hands to slide around the man's waist before dropping lower, feeling the man up while pressing at Chris' backside to create more friction between them. It wasn't as if Dave couldn't control himself, he could it was just that he didn't really feel any need to. Chris didn't cough up any complaints either so it didn't discourage him to hold back. And he would keep going until the other told him to stop. Still, it would probably be better if they continue this while standing under the shower, that way they could both clean off while getting dirty at the same time.

With the bathroom being so compact, Dave didn't have to reach very far to grasp the handle to the shower faucet, turning it with ease while still remaining locked at the lips with his lover. He tested the water with his hand to make sure it was the perfect temperature before climbing inside, waiting for the other to join him so he could press his small body up against the tiled wall and grind against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.


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